


Lay Down Your Armor

by retrovertigo (ellameno)



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Ace!Newt, Asexual Awareness Week, Asexual Newton Geiszler, Asexuality, Caretaking, Chronic Illness, Chronic Pain, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Neurodivergent Newton Geiszler, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Physical Disability, Queerplatonic Relationships, Sharing a Bed, asexual intimacy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-01-02 14:53:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 54,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1058103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellameno/pseuds/retrovertigo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newton struggles being open about his asexuality to a world that doesn't understand, while Hermann suffers silently with his evolving medical condition. The two turn to each other for a mutually beneficial arrangement, supplying emotional and physical support for one another and trying to make sense of their ever changing relationship.</p><p>Inspired by Asexual Awareness Week, showcasing various forms of asexual intimacy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

- _Skrit-Skritch-Ski-Skitch_ -

        After years of working side-by-side in uncomfortably close proximity, the sound of Hermann's frantic chalkboard scrawling had become white noise to Newt. Originally it drove him up the wall (Hermann demanded the lab be as quiet as possible while he tested out new algorithms), but now the familiarity of it was almost comforting.

- _Whump_ -

        That was different.

- _Click-Clack_ -

        Huh.

        Newt heard Hermann swear under his breath, and he finally glanced up from writing his lab report.

        Hermann's eraser and chalk were lying on the floor and the man himself was clinging to his ladder as if for dear life. He was worryingly high up. One of his legs dangled precariously while the other, still supported on the rung, was forcefully bent under all his weight.

        "Woah, hey there!" Newt called out in a panic, and rushed over to his lab partner. "Hang on, dude! I'm coming for you!"

        One of Hermann's hands slipped slightly. Newt's stomach dropped.

        " _Shit!"_ Newt scrambled even faster.

        Newt reached the ladder and climbed up halfway, blocking Hermann from potentially falling.

        "What happened? Did you lose your balance?" he asked anxiously.

        "My body just... seized up." Hermann answered through gritted teeth. "I can't move."

        Hermann was gripping the sides of the ladder, white-knuckled. His leg was still dangling between Newt's. Newt used his free hand to help lift Hermann into a sturdier position.

        "Woah, dude, are you gonna be OK?" Newt’s heart was pounding.

        "It... happens." Hermann sighed, "I just have to wait until it passes."

        "OK. Let me hang on to you 'til then."

        "Th... thank you."

        Hermann's entire body was shaking and he was taking very shallow breaths. Newt wrapped his arm around the other man's waist.

        This was an unexpected turn of events. Newt was the one who often needed rescuing, from his reckless habit of using himself as a test subject to his aversion to proper lab safety procedures, which almost always resulted in a long lecture from Hermann. He never anticipated himself having to save his painfully cautious lab partner, and the situation he now found himself in was extremely unsettling.

        Hermann let out an exhale of relief. His grip finally loosened and he relaxed into Newt's embrace, until his back rested against Newt's forehead.

        "Better?" Newt asked.

        "B-Better," he stammered, "Much."

        "Alright, let's get you down--" Newt mumbled into Hermann's back.

        "No, I'm not--" Hermann tried to wriggle from Newt's hold, "I'm not coming down yet, I have work to do."

        "Dude you almost _fell_ , OK?! Let's just make sure it doesn't happen again."

        "Newton--"

        "I'm not going to be cleaning your brains off the floor tonight, or any time soon," Newt snapped, clinging tighter, "Or... ever."

        Hermann stopped fighting. He leaned his head back and sighed in surrender.

        " _Fine_."

        --

        "I told you I don't like you being so high up on that, man." Newt grumbled, helping his partner down from his ladder.

        "What are you, my mother now?" Hermann hissed.

        "I just worry-"

        "Please, just... do not patronize me. I'm an adult." Hermann's lip curled in annoyance.

        "So am I, but you get on my case all the time about--"

        "That's another thing entirely." Hermann turned to face Newt, "Your handicap is your sheer stupidity. Mine is--"

        Newt's eyes widened. Hermann never used the h-word, especially when referring to himself. Impaired, yes. Disabled, sometimes. Handicapped, never. That word was forbidden. It was banned in his presence. Everyone in the Shatterdome knew that.

        Hermann seemed to have realized this slip of the tongue too, stopping his sentence short.

        He took a deep breath and with quiet finality said, "I have a grasp on what I can and cannot do."

        "Right. You're right. You'd know better than I would." Newt backtracked, awkwardly.

        Hermann still looked rattled. It scared Newt.

       “What happened though?" Newt asked softly.

        "It was simply a tremor. It's not a symptom that happens very often for me. It came out of nowhere, really," he replied, distantly as if he were reevaluating his entire condition.

        Newt took Hermann's arm and walked him over to the sofa in the corner of the lab. Hermann stumbled a bit more than usual. It was concerning.

        "How are you feeling now?" Newt asked, after Hermann had sat down.

        "Everything's a little... foggy. And regrettably I can't feel much sensation in my limbs." Hermann patted his legs in annoyance.

        Newt put his hands on his hips, "What can I do?"

        "It's fine. Go back to work, doctor." Hermann said dismissively, "I've taken care of myself my whole life, I can do it--"

        "That's not the point." Newt interjected, "The point is I want to help."

        Hermann looked up at him tentatively.

        "Just chill, dude," Newt shook his head, "Y'know, you deserve to have someone take care of you for once."

        Hermann opened his mouth to retort but stopped himself once he saw the earnestness in Newton's eyes.

        "If you insist," He turned his head away sharply.

        Newt rolled Hermann's desk chair over to the sofa and then patted his own thigh.

        " _Here._ "

        "'Here' what?" Hermann furrowed his brow.

        "Put your leg up here."

        Hermann was reluctant. "What for?"

        "I'm going to give you a massage."

        Hermann gawked at Newt as if he had proposed something scandalous.

        "No, that won't be--"

        "My college roomie was studying massage therapy. I learned some stuff from him." Newt shrugged. "I'm pretty good, or so I'm told."

        Hermann stared at his legs, then at the man seated in front of him. He gave a defeated huff and lifted his legs up, gently resting them on Newt.

        "There we go," Newt said as he started to pull up Hermann's pant-leg.

        "S-Stop." Hermann said quickly.

        "What."

        Hermann looked away, "Just... do it... through the fabric."

        "Uh. OK. It's just a leg, Hermann." Newt raised an eyebrow, "What a prude," he added jokingly.

        "It's... this is rather strange."

        "A guy giving another guy a massage?"

        "Well..."

        "I lived in Japan for three years after Tokyo got attacked -- remember? I was still working there when we met up for the first time."

        "How could I forget? You were practically boasting about it to anyone who would listen." Hermann made a face of revulsion as he recalled their disastrous first meeting.

        Newt cracked his knuckles, "Over there this is no big deal -- and hey, I was not boasting, dude. Anyway, people there give each other massages all the time, it's a health thing. People even bathe together."

        Hermann wrinkled his nose, "Did you?"

        Newt laughed, "Yeah, dude, public baths are the shit -- I mean; they're really _nice_." Newt corrected his slang, knowing Hermann detested profanity. "Once you get over that whole Westerner culture shock it's not that weird."

        He moved his fingers up and down Hermann's calf muscle. It was tense, almost vibrating.

        "Dude,” Newt raised an eyebrow, “are you having a spasm or are you just really freaked out about this massage thing?"

        "Perhaps a bit of both." Hermann still wouldn't make eye contact.

        "Just pretend it's not me, OK?"

        "Hrmph."

        "Pretend I'm... whoever you're cool with touching you."

        He knew Hermann had personal space issues and was uncomfortable with strangers touching him. Newt wasn't a stranger though. Although he was amazed he had gotten this far without being kicked in the face.

        "Whoever that might be..." Newt continued, "Your family, your therapist, Vanessa-"

        "I am not going to visualize you as my wife." Hermann scoffed.

        Newt snickered. Hermann even laughed. Newt felt the muscles in Hermann's leg finally relax.

        "Alright, we broke the ice. I'm Dr. Geiszler, nice to meet you."

        Hermann just shook his head, trying to hold back another smile. He didn't want to give Newt the satisfaction of knowing he occasionally found his obnoxious lab partner's jokes funny.

        Newt again attempted to pull up Hermann's pant-leg. He put his fingers under the fabric cautiously. Hermann didn't try to stop him this time, so Newt rolled the cloth up gently. This was the first time Newt had seen Hermann's bare leg before, or actually any bare skin beyond his neck and wrists. His calf was thinner than he'd imagined. It appeared somewhat atrophied.

        He looked up at Hermann's face. Hermann has his head turned, looking away yet again. He seemed a bit embarrassed. Was that why he wanted Newt to massage through the pant-leg? He didn't want Newt to see the condition he was in physically?

        Newt decided to say nothing. A great feat of restraint on his part, he thought, giving himself a mental pat on the back. He ran his thumbs down Hermann's shin, gently squeezing the small amount of muscle behind it.

        "Is this the bad leg?" Newt thought aloud.

        "Both of my legs are the 'bad leg,'" Hermann lamented. "It just depends on which one decides to give out to a greater extent."

        "Oh..." Newt responded, forgetting about the massage and now just mindlessly running his fingers up and down the outline of Hermann's tibia.

        "This is not..." Hermann gave Newt a look.

        "Isn't what?" Newt glanced up.

        "You know... you aren't... this isn't an ' _erogenous_ ' thing for you is it?"

        "What? No!" Newt almost jumped off his seat, "Dude, you know me. You know I don't feel that, about anyone, let alone _you_."

        "Well, I still don't really understand it." Hermann crossed his arms. "You never have... gone into much detail."

        "I guess that’s true. I just don't think anyone will get it if they haven't... experienced it, y’know?"

        "We don't talk much about it, do we." Hermann's voice got quieter. "We don't talk much about ourselves at all."

        "Yeah...." Newt whispered, quickly switching to Hermann's other leg.

        "Could you explain it?"

        "What? You mean --"

        "Your sexuality -- or lack thereof. Enlighten me, now that we have a moment."

        "I mean, uh, yeah I can try..." Newt shrugged.

        He fell silent for a moment, trying to figure out how to put such a complex feeling into words.

        "All I know is... I just don't feel the normal 'urges'. I might get those 'butterflies' when I see a cute guy --"

        "You fancy other men, then?" Hermann interrupted.

        Newt crooked his neck in agitation. "I thought we'd been over this."

        "Sorry." Hermann bit his lip, as if to prevent any more outbursts.

        "I've had a crush before. Once, and only once," Newt mused softly. "On a _guy_ ," he emphasized for Hermann, "and it was nothing more than I wanted to be in his presence. Everyday all I could think about was getting the chance to talk with him. I just wanted to be near him. By his side."

        Newt shrugged, "Maybe if I was feeling like getting crazy we'd share a bed together -- nothing sexual, y'know," he clarified as Hermann raised an eyebrow. "Just... something intimate, but innocent. Of course, we never did, because, y'know, he didn't get it. He didn't... get me."

        Hermann was silent.

        Newt felt a blush creep over his face. He'd opened up too much, and now he had obviously made Hermann uncomfortable. It happened a lot. He had a bad habit of saying things without considering how odd he must sound to an outsider. His Kaiju jabber had earned him the "groupie" title, now he was doing it again with his ramblings about his sexual 'dysfunction'.

        He knew it. People didn't get it. This was exactly why it was the one thing about himself that he never opened up or talked about. It was so abstract and confusing, even for him some days. He was never very good at articulating his thoughts into words, but to describe a nearly indefinable feeling? Impossible. People couldn't get it. How could they --

        "I understand..." Hermann said suddenly.

        Newt stopped his kneading, "Y-You do?"

       "It's similar to when you're in love, as a child?" Hermann squinted hopefully, trying to make sense of it.

        "Well... kind of..." Newt grimaced, "I'm not a child. I'm a grown man."

        "My apologies... I did not mean to patronize you." Hermann had genuine empathy in his voice. He had just reprimanded Newt for doing the same, not twenty minutes earlier. He felt lousy about it.

        They sat there in silence, Newt still working his way up Hermann's leg.

        Their words were echoing in each other's head now. Neither of them really understood what it was to be the other. They both treated one another like children, out of concern rather than malice, though they'd never outwardly admit it. They cared a little too much at times, always thinking they knew what was best for the other, and that constant nagging often caused fights between them.

        "Can I at least take your socks off?" Newt pleaded, finally breaking the silence.

        "I... suppose so."

        Newt removed Hermann's one-size-too-large loafers.

        "Your socks and shoes are way too big for you." Newt declared, now pulling off Hermann's oversized socks.

        "It's for comfort's sake. My feet swell, because of --" He shrugged, "You know."

        Newt nodded knowingly, now rubbing the underside of Hermann's foot, "You don't talk much about it."

        "I don't, for good reason." Hermann shook his head, "I don't want it to define me. And honestly I wasn't certain that you'd care to know the details."

        "If you checked my Google searches you'd see I care." Newt muttered.

        "Excuse me?"

        Newt looked up, slightly miffed, "You won't tell me anything. You hide it away, so I just research it myself. Trying to figure out how I can help. What I can do to make life easier for you."

        "Newton, you don't---"

        "Contrary to what you might think, I don't like seeing you in pain, dude." Newt said sincerely, looking into his lab partner's eyes.

        Hermann gazed back, his cheeks a bit flushed. This was the warmest concern Newt had ever shown towards him. There was tender honesty in his eyes.

        "When your wife worries, is she patronizing you?"

        "There you are comparing yourself to my wife again." Herman scoffed.

        "I'm kind of your work wife though." Newt gave a teasing grin.

        Hermann couldn't help but smile again. He had felt so alone these days and for the first time his lab partner was showing something other than disdain. He knew he was somewhat to blame for that. Newton wasn't so bad. He remembered how much he liked him during their pen pal days, before they wound up meeting in person. Offline Newton required more patience. The kind of patience Hermann never really possessed. He made a mental note that it was something he should work on.

        "I bet you miss her a lot." Newt murmured, thumbs pressing into Hermann's sole.

        "Yes... desperately, some days." Hermann replied.

        "Must be nice." Newt started, "I mean, to have someone waiting for you. Someone to go home to."

        Hermann furrowed his brow, studying Newt's face. He seemed genuinely sad. Hermann wondered for a second if he should change the subject, but Newt began speaking again.

        "Some nights I really wish I had someone there. Lying there next to me. Running their fingers through my hair as I fell asleep. I want to know what that's like..." He started to blush. "Man that sounds really sappy."

        "No it doesn't." Hermann interjected, "I know how it feels. It's nice. It's positively grand, Newton. I want you to have that."

        "You mean that?" Newt looked up, his eyes glistening.

        "Of course I mean it." Hermann shook his head and gave a small smile, "Contrary to what you may believe, I want you to be happy."

       Newt grinned sheepishly, “Thanks, man.” He grabbed Hermann's other foot and started massaging it thankfully, with more gusto.

        He forgot what it was to feel like someone was rooting for you. When he used to e-mail back and forth with Hermann in 'the good ol days' Hermann was always supportive of Newt. He sent him words of encouragement whenever he felt stuck or anxious. It was nice to know that the man he had befriended all those years ago was still in there, somewhere.

        "Someday, yeah... that'd be nice." Newt said, mostly to himself. "It's just... hard to be optimistic sometimes. I have to find someone that I care about – deeply -- and then that person has to care deeply about me too, but not want anything from me that I'm not, y'know, willing to give?”

       Newt swallowed hard. “Sometimes I just wonder-- what are the odds?"

       He felt that familiar pang of emptiness in the pit of his stomach. He had an irrational fear of dying alone without knowing the love of another. That kind of untraditional and unconditional love that was so hard to put into words.

        "What if I could be that for you?" Hermann said distantly.

        Newt felt his face get hot again. "What?"

        "If I can give you that fulfillment, then I will do it gladly." He stared intensely at Newt. He wasn't kidding around.

        Newt's hands froze. He had a deer in the headlights expression on his face.

        "It's not cheating if all I'm doing is sharing a bed." Hermann reasoned. "I had to do that with my siblings."

        "Yeah but... it's different." Newt shifted anxiously. "There's an emotional aspect..."

        Newt wasn't looking for romance, but he also wasn't looking for a meaningless shallow relationship. He desperately needed that emotional connection.

        "Are you suggesting I don't care deeply for you?" Hermann said softly.

        Newt felt the once-dormant butterflies awaken in his chest.

        "You mean, like a brother--"

        "No. It's... different, actually. I don't really have a word for it," Hermann said thoughtfully.

        Newt was speechless. Was Hermann actually feeling the way Newt felt? That strange love Newt knew so well? The kind that wasn't platonic but wasn't really romantic either?

        The kind of love he felt all those years ago when he had a crush on his pen pal?

        "But in any case...” Hermann looked back up at Newt with kindness in his eyes, “Is that something I can do for you?"

        "I-If it's cool with you. If it doesn't weird you out."

        "No, of course not." Hermann shook his head hastily, "And to be quite honest, I need someone at night."

        Newt made a face.

        "Not like _that_ , Newton." Hermann sighed, "What I mean to say is... some nights I awaken and need things, like a temperature adjustment or a glass of water, but I cannot move without pain. It would be an ideal situation if--"

        "You had someone there?"

        "Yes."

        "I can be that for you, dude.” Newt leaned in closer, “Whatever you need."

        Hermann smiled gratefully.

        "Alright, doctor. We have a deal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So first of all, hi welcome to my first ever real attempt at fanfiction. This originally started out as just a private work I started in order to channel my frustrations and feelings about being both asexual and someone who suffers from chronic illness/pain in a cathartic way. 
> 
> Ace Awareness Week came and went and I heard my fellow aces talking about how there was a lack of asexuality written in an accurate or non-offensive way in fanworks. I debated posting this for the longest time but after swallowing my pride and sharing it with a few trusted friends the response was overwhelmingly positive, especially from the aces.
> 
> So here you go. I hope to add more diversity to what I think is a very open-minded and MOGAI conscious fandom. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> ETA: Added a line at the end because I never really liked how abruptly it cuts off compared to my other chapters.


	2. Chapter 2

        Newton finished up his paperwork as Hermann relaxed on the couch, nursing a cup of tea and popping the occasional aspirin. The two of them then headed to Hermann's dorm. It was a slow crawl. Even with his cane Hermann had difficulty moving after the 'incident', as the pair were now calling it. To Hermann's relief, they passed no one in the halls, as it was extremely late. He always had trouble asking for aid, and to have someone see Newt helping him hobble along would have been absolutely mortifying. He had a false sense of pride that came from never showing vulnerability.

        They reached the door and Newt helped his lab partner inside.

        Hermann shakily sat himself down on the edge of his bed. He was very stiff and looked visibly uncomfortable.

        "So, how's it now?" Newt asked, already knowing the answer.

        "I'm still... not doing well. My mobility is limited, as you've witnessed firsthand."

        "What can I do? Just tell me what you need."

        "Ah, well..." Hermann pondered for a minute before making a hesitant face and saying, "No. No, never mind, I'll just sleep in my clothes tonight."

        "What?" Newt cocked his head, "Are you saying you need help undressing?"

        Hermann waved a trembling hand dismissively, "It's not necessary. Again, I will just sleep in what I'm currently wearing."

        Newt rolled his eyes, "Dude, it's not a big deal for me. If you need help I'll help you. It's not... weird or anything."

        "Well it's extremely awkward to _me_ , Newton." Hermann had a look of defeat on his face.

        Newt frowned but nodded. Hermann slowly shrugged his blazer off his shoulders. Newt reached out to catch it as it slipped off, and folded it gently. Hermann whispered a word of gratitude.

        "You want the vest off, right?"

        "The _vest?_ " Hermann raised an eyebrow, "No, I'll keep my underclothes on, thank you."

        "I mean, your sweater vest." Newt clarified.

        "Oh, my _pullunder?_ " Hermann asked, tugging gently on the knit.

        "Sure."

        "Yes, I suppose that would be more comfortable. I can't really... bend." Hermann cringed.

        "Just raise your arms then."

        Hermann did so, albeit slowly, and Newt pulled the sweater vest off over Hermann's head.

        "You're sure you don't want to change?" Newt inquired. "We don't get to do laundry for a while."

        Hermann stared at the floor for a minute, made a face and then began undoing the buttons on his shirt.

        "You _do_ want to change?"

        "Yes, fine. My nightclothes are in that bottom drawer."

        Newt went over to the dresser by the end of the bed and pulled out a pair of red and white flannel pajamas.

        "Cute, Herm." Newt smirked.

        "Oh stop it." Hermann scowled.

        Newt laughed softly.

        "Blasted buttons." Hermann hissed with frustration, having great difficulty, "My fingers are not cooperating tonight..."

        "Here, let me do it." Newt offered, setting the pair of pajamas on the bed.

        "I feel so useless." Hermann groaned.

        "Don't say that." Newt scolded, making quick work of the buttons on Hermann's shirt.

        Hermann was, thank God, wearing an undershirt beneath the button up. Newt wasn't sure if he was ready to see that much of his lab partner to begin with. That was a little too intimate, for both of them.

        "There we go." Newt pulled the dress shirt off and draped it neatly on Hermann's desk chair.

        Normally Hermann would have reamed Newt for leaving clothes -- his clothes especially -- lying around, but tonight it wasn't worth the fight.

        "Do you want me to run you a bath?" Newt asked, "Maybe that might help."

        Hermann gave him a baffled look, "Newton, that would require you to help me undress completely, and I do not feel like we are at the point in our relationship where I would feel comfortable doing so."

        "Oh right. I forgot." Newt then took the flannel shirt and helped his friend get into it.

        "You sure are fast." Hermann observed, watching Newt's fingers.

        "A guy in my line of work has to have nimble efficient hands," he boasted.

        "Quite..."

        "Alright, next..." Newt knelt down in front of him and began to unbuckle Hermann's belt.

        "Wait." Hermann pleaded.

        "What?"

        "It's just..."

        "Dude, woah, you are making this way more awkward than it needs to be."

        Hermann wanted to say something, but realized Newton was right. He had asked for assistance, and now he was fighting every step of the way. He needed to accept the help Newt was so willingly giving.

        "G-Go on..." Hermann stammered, looking away as if something horrible was going to happen. Newt resumed undoing the belt.

        _Don't make any comments_ , Newt told himself. _Don't even look_.

        He quickly pulled off Hermann's trousers, as if he was doing the old tablecloth trick, grabbed the flannel pants and put them around Hermann's ankles.

        "Here, now we're gonna stand up." Newt said. He helped Hermann rise, then bent down and pulled the pajama bottoms up.

        "There. See? Not so bad." Newt reassured, easing Hermann back onto the bed.

        Hermann was still staring self-consciously at the ceiling, but managed to mumble a word of thanks. He helped Hermann scoot over to the far side of the bed.

        "Newton, would you please fetch me a glass of water?"

        "On it." Newt grabbed the glass from the bedside table and filled it in the sink.

        "My pills are in the drawer there." Hermann gestured as Newt returned.

        Newt pulled open the drawer to find many bottles. _Dang_   there were a lot of bottles.

        "Which--"

        "One of each."

        "All of these?" Newt looked at him shocked.

        Hermann nodded.

        "Wow..." Newt said quietly, undoing the lid to one.

        "You can just put them all in that little cup there-- yes, that one."

        Newt unscrewed each bottle until he had put about seven pills in. He took the cup and glass over to Hermann, who promptly swallowed the entire contents in one go.

        "Wow, that's hardcore."

        Hermann gave a small laugh, "Yes, well... decades of practice."

        "Wow..." Newt remarked again, somewhat sadly. Hermann had been suffering a long time. It wasn't fair.

        Newt took the two items from Hermann and set them back on the bedside table.

        "Is that all?" Newt asked.

        "Yes, thank you."

        Newt then removed his own shirt and started on his jeans.

        "Ahh... yes, ah, did you bring something to change into as well?" Hermann questioned awkwardly.

        Newt raised an eyebrow, "Uh, I don't wear pj's."

        Hermann's eyes widened, "Are you telling me you intend to sleep in the nude?"

        "NO! No." Newt laughed, dropping his jeans. Hermann looked away.

        "Relax, I just sleep in my underclothes."

        "Yes, all right then." Hermann still wouldn't look.

        Newt kicked away his jeans, and crawled into the bed. It wasn't really meant for two people, but Hermann was thin enough for them both to fit.

        Hermann was still staring at the wall.

        "Hey, Herm."

        "Hmm."

        "Look at me."

        Hermann glanced over quickly before looking away again, "What-- Why?"

        "Just look at me."

        Hermann finally turned his head to look. Newt smiled.

        "It's ok. Relax." Newt said soothingly.

        Hermann's gaze kept going to the tattoo along Newt's collar-bone.

        "You like?"

        "Not particularly. They're positively garish. I'm just... surprised. I didn't realize..."

        Newt tugged down the collar of his undershirt.

        Hermann gasped, a mix of awe and disgust, "So many?"

        Newt grinned, "You've never seen me shirtless, have you?"

        "Well obviously not, and I'm not sure I'm looking to change that," Hermann said starting to turn away again.

        "Oh come on, dude, don't be like that. Don't be a tease."

        "I'm not particularly interested in staring at another man's chest, or frankly having a bare-chested man in my bed in the first place. If that makes me a tease, so be it."

        "But it's art!"

        "And art is subjective, Newton. You've said it yourself."

        "Whatever, man." Newt laughed.

        Hermann made a sound that was a cross between annoyance and amusement.

        "Soooo, speaking of art, how's wifey?"

        "Excuse me?" Hermann turned around to look at him.

        "How's Mrs. Gottlieb? I hear she's got a McQueen gig."

        Hermann smiled slightly, "Yes, you've heard right. She's ecstatic. It's her dream, really."

        "That's awesome, dude. She'll kill it."

        " _Kill_ it?"

        "Uh, you know... slay it? Totally rock it? Be in her element, I guess."

        "Ah, yes, I see. Yes, I suppose she will." Hermann said dreamily.

        "Is she, y'know, _showing_ yet?"

        "Newton, that's a very personal question."

        "I just mean-- y'know, for the –“

        Hermann narrowed his eyes, "Are you suggesting my wife may be too large for the runway?"

        "No! No, I didn't mean--"

        Hermann laughed again, "I'm joking. No, no it's too early for that, I think. Well..." He thought for a moment, "I can't be sure... I haven't seen her in a while."

        "Oh right... well next time you talk to her, send her my best."

        "I will."

        Hermann yawned loudly.

        "Goodness," he said, blinking, "I am exhausted from today's ordeal."

        He turned to Newt, "I'm sorry I won't be much company tonight. I'm not sure how long I can--" another yawn, "--last..."

        "Oh, dude no worries." Newt smiled half-heartedly, wishing they'd have more time to talk, "This is just an ice breaker. Go on and sleep."

        Hermann gave a tired thankful smile and pulled the duvet over himself. Newt did the same, settling down into bed.

        "Thank you for being so helpful today, and staying the night," Hermann murmured sleepily, his eyes now shut.

        "No problem... Thanks for having me."

        Hermann gave a small laugh, "Yes, well... Goodnight, Newton."

        "G'night Herm," he replied, watching his lab partner turned bed partner slowly breathing. Hermann looked content. Relaxed. Not the rigid guy his was used to.

        Newt suddenly realized how awkward it would be if Hermann opened his eyes and saw the man staring at him. He changed positions, cautiously as to not wake his companion up.

        Newt was turned, now with his back towards Hermann. This was... okay. It was better than nothing. It was still pretty nice to hear someone breathing next to you. To feel them shift beside you.

        He set his glasses on the bedside table, and laid his head down. His eyes fluttered closed. Yeah, it was a bit disappointing, but what was he to do? He may have been expecting too much, and too soon. This was alien territory for both of them. Might as well enjoy it.

        And then he felt it.

        A set of fingers running through his hair. A thumb rubbing against his scalp. A palm brushing past his ear, down to the nape of his neck.

        Part of him wanted to say something, but he didn't want to ruin this. This was exactly what he had described to Hermann. His ultimate fantasy. It felt wonderful.

        "'m sorry if I've been short with you lately," Hermann mumbled, still stroking Newt's hair, "It's just stress and the like..."

        Newt hummed in forgiveness, eyes still shut.

        "You've been a very helpful and good companion to me when it counts." Hermann continued, "I'm glad to have you. Truly."

        Newt smiled into his pillow. "You too, buddy," he whispered.

        Newt opened his eyes. The touching had stopped. He carefully turned to look at Hermann.

        Hermann was asleep, in the same position as Newt had last seen him.

        Wait a minute.

        Had he drifted off without knowing?

        Or was the touching all just a dream?

        Newt felt a pang of disappointment and utter confusion. He always had been a vivid dreamer, but he'd never fallen asleep so quickly in his life.

        He laid back down, this time facing Hermann. He watched Hermann's eyelids flutter in REM sleep. He thought about how long Hermann's eyelashes were. How he'd never noticed the light dusting of freckles along Hermann's cheekbones before. How he hoped that he hadn't dreamt up the sudden display of affection. How glad he was that Hermann, the man who pushed everyone away, trusted him enough to let him get this close.

        He thought about these things until he couldn't think anymore and finally drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm curious to know if this sort of fic appeals to people. Hopefully I'll be showcasing more forms of asexual intimacy between these two, as well as addressing more of their insecurities and exploring asexuality/queerplatonic relationships as a whole. Please let me know your thoughts! Especially if you are a fellow ace. :)
> 
> [Also: 'Vest' in England is an undershirt. 'Pullunder' is German for sweater vest.]


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow so I did not mean to make it seem like I abandoned this fic. I wound up working more on later chapters than actually the next in the sequence. Also life got weird. So. Here you go. It's "Asexy April" so I figured it'd be appropriate to try to get a chapter out before it ended.

            The body beside him shifted, startling Newt out of a dream. A dream he was a bit disgruntled to leave, that is until he realized-- _wait, there_ _’_ _s a body beside me!_

            A sleepy mind would have registered the room as his own (considering all Shatterdome dorms were the same) except that it was much cleaner and organized, the wall decor sparse instead of covered with posters, and the stacks of books on the floor were quantum physics textbooks -- not comic anthologies and half-filled moleskines. Gradually he pieced together where he was and remembered all the things that had transpired in the hours before. Only then was he glad to leave the dreaming world behind, as this was a hundred times more interesting than his standard “rock star fantasy”.

            The little clock by the bed read 10:27 AM. Extremely late by Hermann’s standards, but then again they had only slept for 6 hours at the most. On any other day he would be up on his ladder by now or typing frantically at his computer desk. Newt was usually dead to the world until his alarm went off, but he was surprised Hermann hadn’t woken up yet, or at all in the night. At least, he _hoped_ that was the case and he hadn’t just slept through Hermann’s attempts to wake him -- or the extremely unlikely possibility that Hermann had simply keeled over in the night. Both scenarios made Newt a useless failure on his side of the arrangement. And, y'know, as a friend.

            Newt looked over at his bed-mate. Hermann was almost in the same position as Newt had last seen him before nodding off, except his arms now rested near his head, his hair was much messier, and his brow glistening and furrowed, lost in a dream. He must have been exhausted from everything that had happened to sleep so soundly and without much movement. Then again, Newt didn’t really know what was normal for Hermann. His only point of reference was from the catnaps his lab partner would take on the sofa whenever he was frustrated by an equation or had a migraine. This usually called for silence on Newton’s part (as Hermann appeared to be a light sleeper) or at least as silent as Newton could be, which was of course ‘not at all’.

            It seemed a shame to wake him, but he knew Hermann would already be angry as it was about losing precious hours of the workday. He was a ‘Carpe Diem’ kind of guy, even when feeling his worst. Newt would at least give him the option of getting up if he so desired. 

            Newt nudged him softly. Hermann scrunched up his face in displeasure. 

            “Hey, hey Herm.” 

            Hermann whined and writhed like a boy who didn’t want to be woken up for school. It made Newt smile, as he’d never seen his oh-so-together lab partner in such a childlike state. 

            “Herm,” Newt whispered, “How late did you want to sleep?”

            Hermann’s eyes fluttered open. He blinked and tried to adjust to the waking world around him. 

            “It’s almost 10:30.” Newt informed him. 

            Hermann’s gaze fixated on Newt, and then stared at him with confusion.

             “Newton, what are you doing here?”

             “We slept together last night.”

             Hermann rose up slightly.

             “We did _what_?” he whispered incredulously.

             “Not like that!” Newt felt panic in his chest, “Wait do you seriously not remember?”

             Of course. Of course it would happen this way, he thought to himself as he let the most frantic parts of his mind take over. A too-good-to-be-true night ending in disaster. The person he cared about most looking at him with distrust, and probably assuming something predatory and of questionable motive had occurred. A marquee of ‘F.M.L.’ repeated over and over in Newt’s brain.

             He could see the wheels turning frantically in Hermann’s head, trying to piece together everything that had happened previously. Something apparently clicked because the frenzy in his eyes dissipated and they became relaxed and heavy with sleep again.

             “... Oh... _oh right_. I'm sorry.” Hermann sunk back down, placing his palm on his forehead, “I'm very disoriented right now.”

             Newt let out a sigh of relief. Okay, their collective panic attack was over. Crisis averted. Back to business. He softly touched the back of his hand to Hermann’s temple. It felt a bit clammy.

             “You okay? Do you need anything?”

             “I can get it--”

             “If you’re disoriented you shouldn’t do anything. And I’d have to get out of bed anyway to let you out, so...”

             “Well, just get me another drink, then.” Hermann sighed. “P-Please.” he added.

        --

             Newt put his jeans back on as Hermann drank his third glass of water -- the first two, he all but chugged.

             “Damn, if you were that thirsty you could have woken me up, dude.” He raised an eyebrow, “That’s why I’m here.”

             “I may have sweated it all out. Forgive me for being so...” Hermann grimaced apologetically, eyeing the tissue Newt had given him to dry his brow.

             “Were you too hot? I kind of overheat so I hope I didn’t--”

             “No, no, not hot at all.” Hermann interrupted, shaking his head, “Cold, actually.”

             “Next time you’re cold, just cozy up next to me. I’m like a furnace sometimes.”

             Hermann laughed shyly.

             “Anyway, dehydrated is probably not the greatest thing be right now, considering...” Newt made a gesture towards Hermann’s legs.

             “Honestly every time I did rouse from sleep I groggily fell back into it.” Hermann shrugged, “Even if I wanted to wake you I doubt I could have.”

             “Well, next time-- That’s why I’m here,” he repeated.

             “Yes...” Hermann mused.

             Newt sat on the side of the bed. Hermann glanced at him hesitantly.

             “Could I...” Hermann started. Newt snapped to attention. “Ah... have some time alone, please? It’s just-- I have a... process to my morning medication routine and it’d be easier to do it myself and--”

            “You don’t have to explain yourself, dude.” Newt sprung to his feet, “It’s your room. I’m here by invite only.”

            “Thank you.”

            “I’ll go get changed and stuff, and then I’ll come back?” Newt asked, backing away and grabbing his shoes and discarded shirt up off the floor.

            “Alright...”

             “I’ll knock first.” Newt said over his shoulder as he opened the door to the hallway.

             “Alright...”

             “If you need me--” Newt wiggled his phone in the air.

             “ _Alright,_ Newton.” Hermann said with annoyed finality.

             “ _Sorry, bye!_ ” Newt whispered from the crack of the closing door.

             Hermann let out a long exhale of breath. He leaned his head back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. Newt’s manic energy was tiring but Hermann soon realized it was a welcome distraction, as the silence seemed deafening now that he was left completely alone with his own thoughts for the first time since the ‘incident’. Suddenly he wished Newton was back nagging at him. It made it so he didn’t have to think or worry about himself. He grabbed his cane, which Newt left leaning against the bed for him, and decided to start his morning routine.

             It was a happy accident that he kept his day medication in the small attached bathroom instead of the nightstand drawer. He didn’t want Newt to have to see the extent of it. He knew Newt had an inkling of what was going on, now that he’d admitted to doing some research into it. Being vague about the specifics of his condition wasn't done out of shame, he simply didn’t need anyone to be sad on his behalf. Or to pity him. His most pressing need was to be in control of how the world perceived him. He was more than a cane and a diagnosis. When people know what ails you, they tend to look for it. A bit of mystery prevents expectation.

             Hermann was independent and this was all normal routine. No, the real problem weighing on him wasn’t that he had to do all this, but that after doing all this _something else_ was developing. Hermann was good at adapting, but god, a man can only adapt so much.

             He gazed at himself in the tiny bathroom mirror. He looked tired. Older than his years. Skin greener than usual but also oddly flushed. His hair was sticking to his forehead from cold sweat. He mulled over the idea of a quick shower. If Newton was going to be in extremely close proximity to him he didn’t want to be repulsive. However, he noticed one of his legs was shaking again and it dawned on him that showering without assistance would be extremely reckless in this state. Alright, then he’d at least try to wash up a little in the sink. For Newton’s sake.

            He filled another glass from the tap and downed it hastily. It was strange to feel both soggy and dehydrated. He could feel his eyes watering but couldn’t decipher what it meant. Maybe they were tears. Maybe just the result of trying to stifle a yawn. Was that a yawn he was stifling? Or was that emotion building in his chest? Either way, he decided to let a few tears fall down his cheek and tried not to apply significance to them before splashing water onto his face to further dilute any meaning they might have had.

        --

            “Hey Herm,” Newt barged into the dorm, barely even stopping to knock, “The caf’s about to serve lunch now but I figured you’d probably just want some tea and fruit anyway so I grabbed some--”

            Hermann was slipping his blazer over a burgundy knit sweater. He usually wore a dress shirt under it but decided to forgo it after losing a battle with its many buttons. 

            “Oh hey, you’re dressed.” Newt was surprised, “You should have let me know, I could have helped--” 

            “If I needed your help I would have asked.” Hermann snapped in a somewhat offended tone. 

            “Oh uh... no, yeah, o-of course.” Newt shifted his weight awkwardly. Maybe he’d gotten a little overzealous in his caretaker role. He liked being able to show his affection in this way, but not at the expense of his friend’s dignity. Doting can be demeaning. He realized that now. 

            “I’m not trying to baby you... it’s just...” Newt tried to find the proper words, “I’m not used to seeing you vulnerable. It kind of scares me.” 

            “ _I walk with a cane_ , Newton.” Hermann gave him a scoffing look, “I am, by definition, extremely vulnerable.” 

            “That’s not what I mean.” Newt began to pace, “You’re aura is so strong, I don't think people even notice the cane. You’re just... solid. Unshakable.” 

            “Robotic.” He scowled. 

            “No, no, no not at all. You have passion, but you don’t let it get the better of you-- like I do. That’s hardly robotic. You’re just sturdy while I’m all over the place-- mentally--” Newt made wild gestures with his hands, “-- and literally, now that I think about it. Anyway, what I mean is... there’s an uncertainty in your eyes that I haven’t seen before. And it freaks me out, dude.”

            “Newton...” Hermann sighed, “While your concern for my well-being is touching-- and that’s not coming from a place of sarcasm-- you needn’t be so... alarmed. I’m just... exhausted, I think. Mentally _and_ physically. That’s most likely what you’re seeing.” 

            “I just know you, man.” Newt shrugged halfheartedly, “And this is different.” 

            “And knowing me you must know I always recover.” Hermann stepped closer to Newt, “These things come and go.” 

            “Are you saying that to reassure me... or yourself?” Newt asked, looking up at his taller friend. 

            Hermann rolled his eyes, “Honestly, Newton, let’s not be so _dramatic_ today. I’m feeling a bit under the weather, yes, I had a rough yesterday. Things happen, we move on. Today is anew. And-- we have work to do!” 

            Newt made a disapproving noise. 

            “I won’t be on the ladder.” Hermann patronized in a sing-songy voice, “I’m not reckless like another scientist I know.” 

            “ _Well_.” Newt quipped, in a tone that hinted that he totally disagreed with Hermann’s lack of recklessness. 

            Hermann took a deep breath to quell the flames of annoyance building in his chest. 

            “ _Don_ _’_ _t start with me,_ ” he hissed. 

            Newt smirked, and muttered something in a mocking voice, which Hermann accepted gratefully for once in his life, as it showed Newton was feeling a bit more at ease with the situation at hand, and by proxy so was he.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, admittedly this chapter is less about asexuality and more about disability, but as someone who suffers from both I figured I might as well give them equal attention.
> 
> I'm also in a highly emotional state as some personal tragedy and health struggles have happened in my life lately, so a good chunk of this was written from 2-7 am this morning.


	4. Chapter 4

        Hermann kept his promise not to get back up on the ladder, though it wasn’t clear if it was because he agreed that the situation was too precarious or that he just wanted Newt to stop clucking like a mother hen.

        He had moved to the lab with purpose, trying his best not to make eye contact with anyone they passed in the corridor. The two K-Scientists clumsily rushing through the halls was a common sight in the Hong Kong Shatterdome and no one batted an eye. It was only once they had reached the seclusion of the lab did he show signs of pain, and Newt helped him over to the couch.

        Hermann had made himself as comfortable as possible, though he still felt stiff and unsteady despite sitting down. He looked over and realized Newton had moved the rolling chair and the low table over to him while he was distracted, fumbling with a few of the lumpy throw pillows. His composition notebook and dry erase board were sitting there, along with tea and a small but proper breakfast. He noticed that Newt had picked out all his favorite fruits -- ones that were usually snatched up the quickest. He felt a pang of gratitude and a flush creep onto his cheeks. It was a sweet gesture and Newt hadn’t even bragged about the favor, as though he was feeling bashful about it.

        Newt was across the room, busy flipping through his own research notes. Well, more like giving the illusion of being busy. He glanced up to see if Hermann was buying it. Hermann was sipping his tea, looking contemplatively at the hongyang kiwi he held in his hand -- the kiwi Newt had to beg the cafeteria worker who hated him to get from the storeroom. (Of course, the worker obliged once Newt mentioned Hermann’s name, because to Newt’s chagrin everyone loved Dr. Gottlieb). Newt decided he’d save that information for another time, like when he needed some favor to hang over Hermann’s head. Not because he was particularly embarrassed about it, or so he told himself.

        “I got some new specimens being shipped in from who-knows-where.” Newt mentioned to his lab partner while mulling over Kaiju harvest reports.

        Hermann replied with a sound of feigned interest. Newt looked back over at him and saw he was slumped back, staring off into space.

        “What’s up? Are you OK?” He tried to ask as casually as possible, attempting to hide the anxiety in his voice.

        Hermann made a face.

        “Hmm?” Newton pressed.

        “I’m just thinking...”

        “About?”

        Hermann glowered and made a small frustrated noise, a thing he did when he wanted to say something but thought better of it. (Usually when he was holding back a snippy comment). Newt could tell something was really bothering Hermann but wasn’t sure more prodding was the proper course of action.

        Newt decided to drop the subject, “You don’t--”

        “I didn’t need my cane for half the week--” Hermann blurted out, sitting up suddenly and almost startling Newt, “--and then _bam!_ I nearly fell flat on my arse.”

        “Flat on your _‘arse’_?” Newt scoffed, “You nearly busted your skull.”

        “You saw!” Hermann pointed desperately at his lab partner, “I was doing so well before, even _you_ were surprised. There was absolutely no transition period… none!” Hermann looked at Newt incredulously before slumping back against the sofa, “Why is that?”

        “I dunno dude.” Newt replied softly. He wished he had an answer.

        “I’ve always had some kind of warning.” Hermann was now gazing at his hands as if he’d find the answers written on them.

        "It was probably just some weird one-time-only thing. Probably stress, dude. Don’t dwell too much." Newt tried to alleviate the situation, while stirring a packet of fruity kids cereal into his greek yogurt, “Take your meds. Finish your breakfast. You’ll feel better.”

        Hermann sighed loudly, but nodded, digging a small metal pill tin out of his jacket pocket and turning his attention to the fruit in front of him.

        A few hours ticked past, and though they were working on their respective sides of the lab they felt a closeness they had never experienced before, each often peeking over his own shoulder just to catch a reassuring glimpse of the other at work, and then quickly busying themselves so their lab mate wouldn’t catch on. Today’s work was distrait and half-hearted, to say the least, minds focused on each other rather than the tasks at hand.

        Newt was arguably the most distracted. He had been formulating ways to discuss certain events from the situation they now found themselves in as nonchalantly as possible -- more specifically certain sleepy touches that Newt had long been craving -- with each hypothetical scenario ending miserably. Now that Hermann had willingly brought the incident up again, Newt swallowed hard and mustered the nerve to ask about the events of the night they spent together.

        Hermann had since rolled himself over to one of his work desks, the one with a holo-display, and was robotically entering data from his notebook with his chin resting on his hand. It wasn’t clear to Newt if the stiffness was out of pain or apathy, but he suspected it was more than likely a combination of both.

        Newt ambled over, pretending to be searching for something near the divider of their work spaces.

        “Hey, Herm...” Newt squeaked while picking up a file that he didn’t even need.

        “Hmm.”

        “Uhh, so like...” Newt’s voice caught in his throat.

        Hermann swiveled in his chair to face him, “Yes?”

        Eye contact was not in any of the successful hypothetical scenarios. Newt tried to regain his mental footing.

        “About last night... did you...”

         _'Pet the top of my head’_ , he wanted to ask, but something about Hermann’s expression stopped his words. There was unease in his face, and Hermann’s oversized glasses made his weary tired eyes appear even larger, which caused Newt’s courage to be swept out from under him.

        He aborted the original plan and chose not to bring it up, in fear Hermann really hadn’t touched him after all and he had dreamt it up in his head. Newt didn’t want to scare him off with his fantasies. Not now when he had a nearly ideal situation.

        “--Did you sleep OK with me in there?”

        “Oh yes.” Hermann’s expression softened, “Quite nicely. Like I mentioned, I tend to get cold, so having a bed companion was a welcome change.”

        “Really?” Newt felt a bit better.

        “Yes.” Hermann shook his head thoughtfully, “And honestly if it weren’t for you I don’t think I would have been able to get myself to bed in that state, so... thank you.”

        Newt waved his hand, “It’s no problem, man.”

        “Was everything... satisfactory?”

        “Was it good for me?” Newt smirked.

        “ _Newton_.” Hermann warned.

        Newt laughed, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it.”

        The corner’s of Hermann’s mouth twitched with a brief smile.

        “Yeah, it was--”

_Amazing, perfect, everything I could have asked for... if it wasn’t all just a dream._

        “-- just what I needed.”

        “Good.” Hermann gave a quick, slightly awkward nod. “I’m glad I was able to... return the favor.”

        Hermann was attempting to be as clinical and detached as ever, a stark contrast to the level of intimacy the two of them had shared earlier. Newt wanted to make a jab about this, but realized that he probably shouldn’t be such an asshole. Obviously Hermann was still not completely comfortable with what had transpired.

        Newt pretended to read the file he was flipping through, just wanting to linger around Hermann a bit more. He glanced up from the printed seismographs and saw Hermann was turned away from his computer, now staring off into space. They were both still replaying the incident over and over in their heads, which was making it hard to focus on work all day. The teacup in Hermann’s hand appeared to be trembling, or maybe it was just Newt’s imagination. Either way, it reminded Newt of a inconsistency from the day before.

        “Hey um... yesterday when you were on the ladder you said your body seized up... but then later you said it was just a tremor.”

        “So many questions today.” Hermann sighed, then took a deep breath, “It was a tremor which made me lose my balance and once I caught my fall my muscles seized up. I couldn’t move.”

        “Oh, OK.” Newt replied, new pieces of information sharpening the fuzzy picture in Newt’s mind that was Hermann’s condition.

        “Why?” Hermann eyed him skeptically.

        “Nothin’, I was just confused.”

        Hermann nodded mutely, his gaze lowering to some spot in the distance. The two fidgeted awkwardly for a few moments in silence.

        “Would you like to...” Hermann hesitated for a second, “Continue this... arrangement?”

        “If _you_ want to. I mean, it’s up to you, man.” Newt deflected nervously.

        Hermann seemed to be caught off guard, “Oh I... I thought this was a mutual thing.”

        “Well yeah... but I mean, I already got something out of it.” Newt absentmindedly scratched his head, recalling the sensation from last night.

        Something in Hermann’s eyes changed. There was a shadow of... disappointment?

        Newt suddenly realized he misread the situation and backtracked in a panic.

        “I mean I’m willing to stay for as long as you still want me. I don’t want to overstay my welcome. I’m the ‘space invader’ here.”

        Hermann raised his brows, “No, no you’re not a bother at all-- or an ‘invader’. I’m the one making you... do things for me.”

        Hermann had a slight semblance of guilt. 

        “I like it.” Newt chirped, “I mean... I like helping people. That’s why I became a doc--- ehh, scientist.”

         Hermann nodded slowly, gaze beginning to drift away again.

        “Also, despite everything else, you’re like... my _friend_ , dude.”

        Hermann’s eyes lit up and he gave a small grateful smile. Newt grinned back, shrugging his shoulders, chest butterflies fluttering.

        “Hey. You’ve been there for me like, more times than I could possibly count. But _you_ probably could. Count, I mean. You have the mind for numbers, and they make me a little cross-eyed. You’re the brains of this operation--”

        “Newton.”

        “Shit, I’m rambling, I know. Sorry.”

        “I was just going to say; don’t sell yourself short.” Hermann smiled once more at Newt before turning his attention back to his computer.

        Newt hesitated for a moment, then gave Hermann’s shoulder a friendly squeeze before heading back to his side of the lab.

        --

        A few more hours passed and the scientists only realized how much of the work day was gone once they heard the automated call for dinner echo through the Shatterdome loudspeakers.

        Hermann didn’t want to eat in the mess-hall, or at all, despite Newt’s protests.

        After the dinner rush came and went, and still his lab partner hadn’t budged, Newt shoved a package of carrots from the mini-fridge into Hermann’s hand and slammed down a bottle of the PPDC equivalent of Gatorade next to him, causing Hermann to jump.

        “Here.”

        “ _Good lord,_ Newton--”

        “You at least need to eat something so you can take your medication.” Newt reminded him.

        “Yes, yes, alright-- but that’s all. I’m not hungry.”

        “This is why you feel like shit all the time.” Newt nagged.

        “It is not.”

        “Well it’s not helping.”

        Hermann wanted to say something but instead took a swig of the sports drink, grimacing at the taste of the electrolytes and artificial sweetener.

        “You know when you don’t eat brain power goes down the toilet.” Newt added, as if his dinner was any better-- instant noodles.

        "Isn't this stuff supposed to be hazardous to your health anyway?" Hermann muttered to himself, examining the ingredients on the back of the bottle.

        Newt didn’t hear as he was busy eyeing the computer screen, “Dude you’ve barely done anything today.”

        “I know, I know, it’s... slow going...” Hermann mumbled quietly, “I at least want to transcribe this notebook by tonight.”

        “Alright man, well... hang in there.” He said softly, reassuringly brushing his arm against Hermann’s as he headed back to his work station.

        --

        For the remainder of the workday he kept watching the clock like a kid waiting for school to end.

        Newt heard the clicking of the keys progressively get slower and slower until he stopped hearing them at all. He glanced back and Hermann was blearily staring at his notebook with heavy blinking eyes.

        “You tired?” Newt asked, checking the time. It was almost 10:30 pm. Hermann usually had at least two more hours left in him.

        “Yes...”

        “Do you need me to take you back to your dorm?”

        “Maybe,” Hermann pinched the bridge of his nose, as he was feeling a migraine starting to form, “Though I feel like I’ve accomplished nothing today.”

        “You got out of bed and you have more done than when you went to sleep last night-- that’s something.”

        “Yes but I’m trying to finish the work I was supposed to have done yesterday if I... I hadn’t...” Hermann trailed off drowsily as if talking was too much of an effort.

        “I wanted you to stay in bed anyway, so, consider any progress a victory.”

        “Fine.” Hermann was too tired to argue.

        “OK, I’ll take you and then I’ll come back here and finish--”

        “ _You’re not staying with me?_ ” Hermann spun around suddenly. There was panic in his voice.

        Newt stopped what he was doing, his heart starting to pound.

        “I-I can stay if you want.” He squeaked.

        “Just... if it’s not trouble. I’m just, uh...” Hermann’s face was flushed with embarrassment from such a needy outburst.

        “No I understand, you don’t have to explain yourself.”

        Hermann turned back to his work abruptly.

        “Are you sure you don’t just want to sleep on the couch?”

        “Everything I need is in my dormitory, you should know that by now.”

        “I could go get your--”

        “NO!” Hermann barked, then sighed in frustration, “If I’m going to sleep for the night... I want to be in my own room. With access to my own things.”

        “Kay.” Newt bit his lip sheepishly.

        Hermann was an insanely private guy, and his lab partner rifling through his things unsupervised and without explicit instruction was probably Hermann’s worst nightmare. Before the other night Newt had never even seen Hermann’s room even though Hermann had often barged into his.

        Hermann whispered a few things under his breath that Newt couldn't decipher and shakily went back to finishing his work.

        Newt slowly backed towards his station. “I’ll just... get my things together.”

        “Yes... let me, um... let me just finish this page.” Hermann said, “Then we can go to bed togeth-- or what... what ever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it takes me so long to update. I have been writing it's just the chapters seem to go through mitosis and one chapter splits into two over and over and I wind up working on later chapters rather than the next one. 
> 
> The next one is nearly finished and I'll probably have it up next month, so don't worry.
> 
> Also wow I'm bad at replying to comments THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR KIND WORDS OF ENCOURAGEMENT. I struggle with chronic pain and illness too, which is why I don't write as much as I should, but every comment I get lights a fire under me and makes me want to push through it for you!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey kids, it's Ace Awareness Week! A year ago I started writing this for the occasion! Wow, time flies. Wish I had more than five chapters up at this point, but health has been unkind to me. Anyhoo, this chapter is double the usual length in honor of AAW, so I hope you enjoy it.

         Hermann swore in German under his breath as he surveyed the scene before him. To his distress the hallways were bustling with bodies. Most of the faculty were only just now clocking out and either heading to their quarters or socializing with coworkers, causing a swarm akin to rush hour traffic. Suddenly a realization hit him like a ton of bricks; _it was Friday_. A predicted Kaiju attack was not likely for a few more months, (if Dr. Gottlieb’s _own_ calculations were correct), therefore masses were assembling to go out on the town. Now the mathematician was mentally cursing _himself_ out. They couldn't have picked a busier time to sneak to the dorm and he was partially to blame. He'd make sure his next forecast was on a need-to-know basis.

         Alas, there was nothing to be done now about the chaotic corridors. Since they were technically soldiers fighting a losing war against an intergalactic terror beyond comprehension, weekends weren't really a 'thing' at the Shatterdome. Still, the younger staff members tried to make the best of what free time they _did_ have, attempting to blast out the feeling of impending doom looming over their heads during the workday with loud pounding pop music and drunken karaoke. For further incentive, local establishments gave a discount to those who flashed a PPDC ID badge, which was great now that everyone was getting paid the bare minimum. On top of it many people wound up finding their future spouse during these outings. It was kind of a big deal.

        Newt, on the other hand,  _hated_  Fridays. Seeing people around him excitably discussing their plans turned him into a green-eyed monster. He yearned to go out too for once, though for him it was to have a carefree night dancing out his tension amongst friends instead of finding love or a hookup, but with his workload he just never had the time. If he heard whispers of which DJ was playing or about the new molecular-gastronomy joint that popped up he would spend the rest of the day grumping around the lab. Hermann would then get irritated and tell him not to act like a pouting child, (“You think I enjoy being cooped up here with you every waking moment?”), but once he'd see Newt's eyes glisten with frustration his heart would surge with empathy. Out of everyone in the Shatterdome, in his educated opinion, _they_   were the most deserving of a break. Hermann would then try to distract Newt with questions about a Kaiju he had recently hyper-focused on – which almost always brought the light back into his lab partner’s face.

        Tonight, though, Newt had much bigger fish to fry, (or “Kaiju to kill”, as the phrase now went), and the thought of going out wasn’t even a blip on his radar. To him, all that mattered was that Hermann was hurting, (but not enough to keep him from hurrying through the hall), and he needed to be there for him. Newt ran alongside, watching with sharp eyes, ready to catch him at any sign of wobbling. Luckily there was enough room for them to try their best to make a bee-line to Hermann's dorm, as people were nice enough to step out of the way when they saw Dr. Gottlieb rushing through, head bowed with determination.

        As the two approached the final stretch to their destination they turned the corner and stumbled upon a handful of people the scientists knew by name near Hermann’s door. The party consisted of J-Tech and a few LOCCENT workers, the team K-Science fraternized with the most in their line of work. They were gossiping loudly in Cantonese (or at least he assumed) and the way the members carried themselves made it evident they had no intention of clearing the area any time soon.

        Hermann stopped abruptly in his tracks and yanked Newt aside to hide behind a pillar before anyone noticed their presence.

        “ _Herm-- what--_ ”

        Hermann appeared almost paler than his usual chalky complexion and had an alarmed look to him.

        “Come back later, once they’ve dispersed.” Hermann hissed close to Newt's face.

        Newt's jaw dropped, “What are you _serious_?”

        “ _Shhh--_ ” Hermann put a shaking finger to his lips.

        “Why?” Newt whispered back.

        Hermann sighed with desperation and cringed, “ _Because,_ I don’t want people to talk.”

        Sometimes in public Hermann physically distanced himself further from Newt than he normally would with any other person. He didn’t want people to get the wrong idea about them, as their constant proximity to each other could almost be read as codependency. And _other things_. Due to stress levels, and the fact that everyone was squashed together like sardines in the can that was the Shatterdome, casual hookups and even extramarital affairs between coworkers was a common occurrence in the PPDC. Hermann did not want anyone to insult him with even the slightest impression that he and Newton might be involved in such a way.

        “Dude it’s just your room.” Newt bemoaned.

        Hermann shut his eyes and scrunched up his face, “Newton, I swear to God, if _anyone_ \--” He let out a frustrated growl, then opened his eyes and grabbed Newt's shoulder authoritatively. “Come. Back. _Later_.” Hermann ordered and then left the hiding spot, scrambling into his quarters as quickly as he could.

        Newt rolled his eyes as he watched the door slam shut. This was stupid. This was _so stupid_.

        “People go in each other's dorms all the time,” he muttered under his breath as he walked away, “Not a scandal.”

        ---

        To occupy his time Newt swung by the nearest vending machine, located in the J-Tech break room. He decided to pick up a few protein bars for Hermann since the guy barely ate one meal the entire day. And as a bonus he’d have more things to throw at his lab partner. _Jerk_.

        “Gonna burn the midnight oil?” Came a voice from behind him. 

        Newt spun around in surprise. It was Tendo Choi.

        “O-oh, me?” Newt squeaked. He was caught off guard, not expecting to bump into anyone he knew personally, especially in an area that was normally abandoned on a Friday night.

        “No, allllll _these_ folks.” Tendo playfully gestured around the deserted break room.

        Newt laughed sheepishly, “Nah, nah, I'm not working tonight. Can't concentrate.”

        “Really?” Tendo's face lit up, “Oh hey, _hey_ man, you should come barhop with me and the grease-monkeys!”

        “I would if I could, but I gotta...” Newt stuffed the snack into his pocket, “I gotta do some stuff, maybe get to bed early...”

        “Oh come on Newt, you're always complaining about how you never get to go out and have any fun.” Tendo clasped his hands together, “Pleeeeease? I want to party with you. You're my friend and we _never hang out_.”

        “I know, I know--” Newt waved his hand, feeling guilty about turning down a friend who was basically begging.

        “Maybe you need a night off to get your concentration back? Monotony dulls the mind, my friend.” Tendo tapped a finger against his forehead.

        “I’m sorry man. I’ve got an obligation...” Newt’s mind drifted to the sleeping face of--

        “It's Hermann, isn't it.” Tendo said soberly, dropping coins into the machine, “That's why you're staying.”

        “Huh?” Newt felt sweat start to bead on the back of his neck. _Oh god, did Tendo see something? He knows everything that happens in the Shatterdome, like some kinda omniscient freak._

        “Is he telling you you shouldn't go out--” Tendo snapped his fingers, “He should come with us too! We won't go anywhere crazy, we can hit this cool piano bar--”

        “Oh no,” Newt shook his head, relieved considerably, “No he's not the problem, it's just I don't punch the clock like everyone else here. I'm the only Kaiju guy left. I'm doing the workload of like 20 people.”

        “Yeah... yeah. I get it.” Tendo's shoulders slumped, “Hey man, well one of these days you gotta come out with us -- we'll do something for your birthday? January, right? We might survive til then.”

        “Yeah, yeah that'd be awesome, dude.” Newt smiled. The offer was genuinely heartwarming.

        “Alright, brother.” Tendo clapped a hand on Newt's shoulder, “Well don't be a stranger, and take care doing... what ever it is you're doing tonight.”

        “I will, I will. You take care too! Have fun.”

        “Don't wear yourself out! Tell Hermann not to either!” Tendo commanded, brandishing his new package of mini-donuts at Newt while he walked backwards out of the room. “He's stubborn, like my grandpa.” He cackled as he exited into the hallway.

        “Alright, man...” Newt called after him.

        He felt bad about lying to the guy, even if it really was true -- he didn't have the luxury of leaving work behind, like, _ever_. Even so, Tendo was the only guy Newt really considered a true friend in Hong Kong, besides maybe Hermann. Now that he thought about it, Newt didn’t really know what to call his own relationship with his lab partner. Co-workers? Ex-friends? Best friends? Rivals? Soul mates? He felt a bittersweet twinge in his chest. Well whatever Hermann was to him, he figured he should go check on him.

        ---

        To his dismay, the loiterers were still there when he returned, and their numbers had even grown in size. One of the Wei triplets had joined, (Newt wasn't sure who it was -- they all had the same face and barely spoke a word to him, though he was pretty confident it wasn't Jin, the quietest brother), which was probably drawing a crowd.

        On one hand Newt respected Hermann’s reasons for being so secretive, but he also knew in reality no one would actually care or even find it out of the ordinary for him to be visiting his lab partner at this hour. After a few moments of debating, he swallowed his pride and approached the pack of gabby Shatterdome employees.

        “Hey, dudes?” Newt interrupted, causing the gang to stop mid-sentence and inspect him with raised brows, “Hey, Hermann’s crashing early -- he’s pulled too many all-nighters -- could you like, take the party to another venue?”

        The group was mainly Hong Kong natives and they stared at him with confusion before turning to a taller member of their crew.

        “We’re being too loud.” The aforesaid man translated from Newt's American-slang heavy request, “Dr. Gottlieb is trying to sleep.”

        “Oh, o-of course,” The youngest worker blushed, “We had no idea.”

        The Wei triplet said something in his native tongue and waved towards another corridor, (Was it Hu? He usually took charge in social situations), and the crowd started chattering in what seemed to be agreement.

        “Cool, yeah--” Newt nodded and gave them a thumbs up, trying to act casual as they picked themselves up and moved on, “By the way this hallway is probably not the best place to hang in general either,” he hollered after them, not sure how many would even understand English.

        He quickly turned and ran up the small metal steps to the dorm. As he drummed obnoxiously on Hermann's door he made a mental note that he should probably learn some of the local language while he was here.

        “Yes, yes, _I hear you_ \--” Came a muffled response. Hermann opened the door slightly, “Are they--”

        “ _Yessss_. Dude, stop being so _weirrrrrd_.” Newt groaned like an exasperated teenager, pushing his way in, “I just told them you were trying to sleep. Coulda' solved that in half a second but nope!”

        Hermann waved dismissively, “Alright well that’s tonight but--”

        “We don’t need to do covert spy stuff -- everyone already thinks we’re codependent.” Newt grumbled, “The two of us being in a room together is not breaking news.”

        Hermann sat down on the edge of his mattress with a huff, gripping his cane with both hands. His lips were tight with ire, but his eyes were glossy with defeat. Newt’s annoyance left his body and the void was filled with tenderness as he recalled what happened in this space the night before.

        “I see you’re still in your clothes.” Newt mentioned.

        “Yes...”

        “Need some help again?” he coaxed softly.

        Hermann gave a noncommittal shrug, but looked up at Newt with requisition. Newt nodded and switched into bedtime prep autopilot.

        This time Hermann was able to get dressed for bed on his own. Mostly. He _did_ ask for help with the buttons again, after Newt had helped pull the sweater off over Hermann’s head. He was able to wrangle his pants off and on without assistance, to the relief of both of them. He made Newt turn away for modesty purposes despite the fact that as far as he knew Newt had already seen all that was there to see. Newt wanted to argue that point for argument’s sake, because bickering seemed to be the one constant in their always evolving relationship, but then realized how bizarre and completely awkward that would be.

        Newt draped his own button-up shirt over Hermann’s chair, stretching his upper-body now freed from it’s tight confines of fabric. He noticed Hermann was staring at his tattoos again and decided not to address it. Instead, he extended his arms over his head in a mock-stretch, which lifted the undershirt up slightly to tease the designs he had beneath his clothes. One of Newt’s greatest and arguably most narcissistic joys was showing off his ink. Having his lab partner suddenly interested in it for the first time was giving him a bit of a rush, as Hermann originally went ballistic on him when he had found out about Newt’s body art.

        Hermann soon realized how he was gawking too, and promptly occupied himself with grabbing his medications from the drawer, hoping Newt hadn't noticed.

        “I’ll get you some new water.” Newt offered, now kicking off his jeans.

        Once Hermann had taken his pills, and they both washed up for the night, Newt climbed into bed and put his notebook on the side table. He wasn’t tired yet so he figured once Hermann passed out he might get a little more menial paperwork done to bore himself to sleep. He saw Hermann was looking at him again, head slightly propped up on one arm.

        “I just want to say, I take back what I said earlier.” Hermann began, somewhat hesitantly.

        Newt raised an eyebrow, trying to pinpoint what he could be referring to, “'Bout what?”

        “About your tattoos. They’re not hideous, they’re quite artfully done, despite the... subject matter.”

        A flurry erupted in Newt's chest, “Aw! Yeah! The quality totally blew me away.” He beamed proudly. Hermann’s sudden approval meant the world to him. “I almost cried, I was so happy.”

        Hermann smiled slightly, “May I... see them again?”

        “You want me to take my shirt off for you?” Newt teased.

        Hermann rolled his eyes, “In not so many words.”

        Newt wasn’t exactly prepared to hear that and in his astonishment he wrenched the tank top over his head embarrassingly fast, turning his torso towards Hermann. He attempted to suck in his gut, as to not distort the images, and to disguise that he was getting a little flabby from stress eating.

        Hermann’s mouth was agape as his gaze wandered across Newton’s chest. The shapes morphed and rippled slightly as Newt breathed, as if the Kaiju were alive too.

        Technically he was a K-Scientist as well, but Hermann’s understanding of Kaiju themselves was all secondhand from his lab partner's constant info-dumps. He didn’t have the encyclopedic knowledge Newton had. He didn’t know every name, every category, every estimated weight. There had been some artistic license taken in the designs, but he was pretty confident he could guess which snarling face was whose if he recalled the brutes Newton passionately rambled on about most.

        Though gnashing teeth and murderous eyes were not something Hermann could comprehend a person wanting to look at every day, (especially since they reminded him of the threat civilization was facing -- and losing to), he could see that great care had been taken by the artist to make sure the composition was perfect. The colors blended beautifully as they organically snaked across Newt’s form. The few inches of inkless skin were coated in freckles, as though even before the Kaiju on his flesh Newt had always had some form of markings.

        Hermann tried to calculate how many hours must have gone into it to nearly cover Newt’s whole chest and arms. How many days. How much agony he must have suffered through. It seemed very admirable, but also a bit crazy, both indicative of Newt’s character, he thought.

        Newt usually lived for this stuff, and he always kind of wished he could show them off to Hermann for once, but the reality of actually having Hermann examining his body so intensely was making him self-conscious. After all, he _did_ have a crush on this guy. Could he see Newt's heart was starting to beat faster? Could he tell Newt was getting really flustered? He suddenly felt extremely vulnerable.

        “Your artist is very skilled.” Hermann said, finally, after what felt like ages to Newt.

        “I’ll send her your compliments next time I see her.” Newt’s voice quivered somewhat as he regained his cool.

        Hermann eventually looked back at Newt’s face, his lips remained parted slightly as though he was still recovering from awe.

        “All this...” Hermann lowered his chin and traced his finger through the air, “Did it hurt?”

        Newt chuckled softly, recalling how he was practically screaming into a balled up tee-shirt at one point, “Oh _hell yeah_. But it was worth it.”

        “Ah.” Hermann remarked contemplatively.

        “Do you have any?” Newt asked, secretly hoping that in a drunk college haze Hermann had gotten some silly math themed tattoo that he hid from the world.

        “Oh heavens no.” Hermann quickly replied with almost a shudder.

        “Why? Are you against them or something?” Newt frowned, putting his cotton tank back on defensively.

        Hermann furrowed his brow, “No, of course not. Vanessa has some tattoos. I quite like them -- if they’re tasteful.”

        “So? Why not get one?” Newt pried.

        “I don’t enjoy pain, Newton.” Hermann sighed, rubbing his temple, “I have enough of it in my life, I’m not looking to inflict it upon myself willingly.”

        “Oh, yeah... sorry.” He realized the constant sting of the needle would be more than enough for Hermann to have a severe flare-up.

        “Besides,” Hermann tilted his head to the side, “I wouldn’t know what to get.”

        “ _Vanessa Forever._ ” Newt replied in a sickeningly sweet tone.

        “Oh could you be more cliche, Newton?”

        Newt giggled. Hermann smirked and shook his head.

        “How about the PPDC logo,” Newt suggested, earnestly this time, “Right here on your bicep.”

        Hermann stared at his arm thoughtfully. “I suppose... that wouldn’t be so bad.”

        “Really?” Newt raised his brows.

        Hermann shrugged, “Well, to commemorate my time here.”

        “Underneath you can put the date you joined and then the date you retired.” Newt smiled eagerly.

        “Heh... the day I retire.” Hermann’s expression turned distant, “If I should be so lucky.”

        “You think you won’t?” Newt’s grin faded.

        “Well...” Hermann sunk back down into the mattress, pulling his arms close, “These days I’m not too sure.”

        “Why? What do you mean?” Newt felt anxiety building in his chest. Hermann had always been an idealist to a fault.

        “I don’t mean to sound... fatalistic. However, things have seemed to be growing grim as of late. The end of the Jaeger program. Downsizing of the science department. The increased frequency of Kaiju attacks.”

        Newt swallowed audibly. Hermann’s gaze snapped to him with sharp scrutiny.

        “Do _you_ expect to retire?” Hermann interrogated, almost desperate for reassurance.

        “I mean... _yeah dude_. Of course. We’re going to win.” Despite the confident tone, Newt had doubt in his darting eyes.

        “You really believe that.” Hermann said quietly, more of a statement than a question. He narrowed his eyes, like he was trying to peer into Newt's mind.

        “What else is there to believe in? I believe in the program. I believe in humanity. I believe... in _us_.” Newt added bashfully.

        Hermann gave a soft yet unconvinced “Hmm.”

        “Hermann, you... you don’t think we can win....” Newt’s voice cracked. He'd been seeing new sides of his lab partner recently, and they were for the most part appealing, but this was one he did not like.

        Hermann could tell that his direness was upsetting Newt, and he felt guilt swirling inside him.

        “Oh goodness, Newton. I... I don’t know what's come over me.” Hermann put a hand on his forehead, “I just... I’ve been losing faith these days.”

        Newt’s face turned firm with determination. He had to rekindle Hermann’s optimism.

        “The Jaeger pilots believe they’re going to retire, and the survival rate for them is pretty dismal.” Newt offered.

        Hermann recoiled, remembering the young pilots he and the Kaidanovskys had become fond of when he was stationed at the Vladivostok Shatterdome, and how he felt standing in the control room watching helplessly as they perished in battle. He again felt panic rising in his core.

        “They’re getting brighter, you know.” Hermann leaned in as though he was revealing a secret, “They’re _learning_.”

        Newt knew this as well as anyone, being the resident expert. _‘No shit’_ , he would have scoffed in any other situation. However, acknowledging it to someone teetering on the edge of a breakdown seemed catastrophic, so he instead chose unblinking silence.

        “Sometimes... I worry that the Kaiju will catch on to us and take out the ‘dome first.” Hermann admitted shakily, vivid images flashing in his mind, “I’ve seen it-- in my dreams. That one day a giant foot will smash down upon us and--”

        “ _Hermann_.” Newt grabbed his bedfellow’s shoulder. Their gaze locked. Newt’s stare was intense as something sparked in his gleaming eyes. “We are _not_ going to die.” he stated with such finality that Hermann felt a ripple of hope in his heart.

        Newt needed to believe it. He was beginning to unravel. Hermann needed to too. And Newt needed Hermann to be his idealistic self again because that idealism was like a life raft in the choppy dark ocean of the unknown. It was one of the things that originally attracted him to Hermann in their letters, and one of the constant qualities that Newt still found even after their relationship shattered into something more prickly.

        In the grand scheme of things, neither of them had ever really considered their own odds of survival before. Til now the fate of humankind was merely an abstract concept, pounded over and over into their brains by propaganda posters to the point where it had almost lost it’s meaning -- but their own personal mortality had tangible weight. Seeing so many rangers fall lately, and no one to replace them, the pair suddenly felt like they too were on the front lines. They were the last line of defense left on the planet.

        All scientists have existential crises, sure, but this took the cake. Global extinction weighed on their shoulders. All eyes of the general public were on the Jaeger pilots, but their eyes, and the eyes of the PPDC as a whole, were on K-Science. And the two Germans, now lying together, were the last men left standing.

        In that moment, Hermann was especially glad to be in this strange arrangement with Newton. The future is a lot less fearsome when you have someone in the same boat – and bed – talking you down. He began to feel drowsy again, now that his mortal peril was evaporating, and lowered himself back down onto his pillow.

        “My head hurts.” Hermann muttered sleepily, changing the subject, “My body hurts. That’s the main problem at hand. My pills should kick in soon, but this migraine is ghastly.”

        “Here...” Newt softly brushed Hermann’s hair off his forehead, “Where’s your migraine?”

        Hermann hesitated for a second, eyes flickering with apprehension, but then his trembling hands gestured towards his own temple. Newt then gently kneaded it with his thumb and knuckle. Hermann screwed his eyes shut but soon relaxed as the knot of pain slowly released itself.

        Newt pressed harder. Hermann winced with a hiss.

        “Do you want me to stop?” Newt asked, not wanting to add to his friend’s agony.

        “No.” Hermann whispered, almost inaudibly.

        Newt immediately began thumbing the knot again, and once it dissipated entirely his hands searched for more muscles in distress, with the goal of gradually working all of them out. It was a long process, but Newt didn’t mind. It was a friendly expression of fondness – and intimate, in a way. He played repetitive songs in his head to keep himself focused, rather than getting lost in the mindless motions. He was doing this for Hermann's sake, after all.

        Hermann stifled a few moans at first, but as he became more relaxed he made soft contented hums of relief, which were encouraging to Newt as it let him know he was doing all the right things. They also made him blush a little, since they were secret sorts of sounds that only are heard when one person is completely comfortable with the other. He almost couldn't believe Hermann was letting him in like this.

        The pained but thankful noises he got when he worked the mastoid muscles in Hermann’s neck were not surprising to Newt though, as he often saw Hermann digging his thumb, (or chalk, or cane handle -- really any blunt object), into it.

        Over the course of what was maybe a half hour, he had watched Hermann’s face go from taut with misery to serene. Hermann’s breathing stopped catching in his throat and was now slow and steady. Newt smiled, feeling accomplished, and hovered for a few minutes making sure all was well before slowly sinking into the bed onto his back, in an effort to relieve the new crick in his neck from the way he was bending over.

        Something shifted next to him from under the covers. He felt Hermann’s fingers brush against his own. Accidentally?

        “ _Danke._ ” Hermann murmured.

        No.  _Deliberately_.

        Newt’s heart raced, and he replied not with words but by cautiously returning the gesture. Hermann’s fingers twitched, but he didn’t pull away. His hands were soft and thin contrasted to Newt’s thicker and rougher ones. It reminded Newt of how he liked to rub his fingers against the silk glasses cleaning cloth he had bought in Japan. Hermann’s thumb ran lightly across the webbing of skin of Newt’s thenar space. Such a gentle ghosting touch somehow rang loudly like a bell in Newt’s head. It was deafening but blissful.

        Newt’s original plan of working a bit more before bed was now thrown aside, as this development was way more important, and interesting. Still lying down he slowly turned off the bedside lamp, instead of leaving it on dimly like he had done the night before.

         In these dire times trapped in this metal vault, one another was all they had. Neither would admit it, but the truth was they wouldn't have wanted to be stuck with anyone else. In the dark, their digits continued to intertwine delicately, as though they were trying to make it seem as unintentional as possible. As they bravely faced what was possibly the end times they had both longed for a hand to hold onto, tightly, for comfort. But as of now this would do.        

        This would do _wonderfully_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all your feedback and support. It is like rocket fuel for me. I hope to have another chapter up in November. Don't quote me on that, but honestly you've been so great and it really makes me want to push myself.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY BONUS CHAPTER! HAPPY HOLIDAYS. This is a flashback I wrote a long time ago, and I was debating when and where to insert it, but since updates have been steady and it happens exactly three years from now I thought what better time to post it?
> 
> (Also slight tw: really brief mention of something that could be considered self-harm near the end of the chapter.)

        November 19th, 2017 was the worst day of Hermann Gottlieb’s adult life. It wasn’t as though life had ever been kind to him, but this was a single date burned into his memory. A day he’d play over and over in his head wondering what went so horribly wrong.

        It was the inaugural opening of the Panama City Shatterdome. Top scientists and scholars from around the world had been invited and Hermann accompanied his father Lars as a guest. The festivities were being held in what would soon be the mess hall of the facility. It was decorated lavishly for the affair, with a live string quartet, an open bar, and hor d'oeuvres light-years fancier than would ever be served there again. It seemed like such a waste of resources to Hermann, but it brought rich people with fat wallets who often donated generously to the cause.

        Hermann desperately wanted to network with like-minded people, but no one he met appeared to care. He had been to a handful of these things, each time telling himself this would be the one where he’d finally be recognized for his own accomplishments. Unfortunately at every event it turned out that people only seemed to approach him when he was with his father.

        During these encounters Hermann would shift awkwardly, uncomfortable in his own skin, as the other scientists would praise Lars Gottlieb and barely address Hermann directly. They spoke as if he wasn’t there, and his father’s associates would often shoot glances at Hermann’s cane and then look back at him with sorrowful eyes. It was hard enough to have to deal with a now visible disability. He didn’t need the pity of people twice his age. He just longed for someone to see  _him_  for once.

        It was a few hours in and Hermann was growing tired of this half-socializing. He was an introvert by nature, and unskilled in the ways of small-talk, and being expected to stay chipper and interested in every conversation, no matter how mind-numbing, was starting to wear thin. That and his leg was going out from standing so long.

        He began searching for an exit while conjuring up some sort of excuse -- they’d let a chap with a cane take a breather, wouldn’t they? They were scientists, not savages. Not to mention no one would presumably notice his absence now that his father had stormed off in a huff, (after Hermann had disagreed with him in front of some respected colleagues), leaving his son stranded in a sea of strangers.

        Near the corner of the room something caught his eye. Hidden next to a large metal support beam there stood a man of short stature, slouched against a wall. He would have been easy to miss if it weren’t for a shock of white blonde hair on the top of his head that gradually faded back into brown. Hermann approached him slowly. He looked out of place amidst the salt-and-peppered crowd, in both age and punkish appearance, but oddly familiar--

        “Dr. Geiszler?” Hermann inquired.

        Newton Geiszler looked up from his phone. He raised a pierced eyebrow in surprise, but then a grin spread across his face.

        “Herm-- Heyyyyy buddy! Small fuckin’ world!”

        Hermann winced at the profanities but still kept his smile.

        “How are ya?” Newt went in for a hug, but Hermann stepped back with bewilderment and instead clumsily offered his hand.

        “Oh sorry,” Newt laughed, “I got a little, uh...”

        Newt shook Hermann’s hand in response, (after haphazardly shoving the phone into the small pocket of his skinny jeans), and the smile crept back onto Hermann’s face. Not only was it an ally, but it was his pen pal of the past three years. This was not the way he had expected -- or perhaps even wanted -- to finally meet Newton Geiszler in the flesh, but after such a demoralizing day Hermann was more than relieved to be with a kindred spirit.

        “It’s a pleasant surprise to see you. Why didn’t you notify me you were attending?” Hermann queried.

        “Oh like, I figured I’d surprise you or something---” Newt's voice trailed off as he twitched nervously, then shook his head rapidly, “Nah, actually I didn’t know this was a thing ‘til like, yesterday, so I’m pretty stoked to be here.”

        Newt lied. He knew Hermann was going to be there, and he did know the gala was happening since everyone in his division had been talking about it. Not to mention every Shatterdome opening was nerd prom. There were celebrities, press coverage, awards for scientific achievements and contributions to the program, tons of expensive booze; It was a big fucking deal.

        “You were not invited?” Hermann asked concernedly.

        Newt rubbed the back of his neck, “Nahhhh like, I dunno I think it might have gotten lost in the mail.”

        Another lie. Well, more like wishful thinking. Newt hadn’t received an invitation, but he had convinced himself it was due to some clerical error. He was a cool guy, right? He was a genius. Surely there had been a mix-up.

        “I kinda jump around a lot,” Newt continued, now talking with his hands, “Cause you know I was at MIT teaching and shit, bouncing from there to Berlin off and on-- but now after Jaeger academy they’re kind of sending me all around-- I’m in Japan now though! I told you that right? Yeah it’s pretty awe--”

        “So why are you here then?” Hermann interjected flatly, already a bit overwhelmed by Newt’s manic energy.

        “Oh-- but yeah a former lab partner of mine is getting an award tonight-- which he totally stole my idea for, so I’m hoping he’ll be nice about it and I don’t need to sue his ass--” Newt forced a laugh, “But I’m kinda like his plus one cause his wife is super preggo and can’t travel... sooo...”

        “Ahh,” Hermann nodded, “ _Wie geht es Dir_?”

        “Good good, I’m getting like a truckload of royalties on some of my patents so I’m pretty damn set, I think. I’m living comfortably-- in Tokyo of all places, like totally my childhood dream,” he replied in English.

        “ _Nun... Gratulation. Wohlverdient_.” Hermann congratulated.

        Newt smiled sheepishly, “Thanks man, you really believed in me.”

        “Ah, Doctor,” Hermann leaned in a bit closer, “Why are we continuing to converse in English? You are my fellow countryman, yes? We’ve corresponded in German.”

        “Oh yeah, well  _online_ , sure,” Newt shrugged, “But English is kind of what I’m most comfortable speaking. I have issues with putting my thoughts into words in verbal conversations-- I’ve told you this-- and I can express myself easier in English. Like... shit, I really don’t know any of the scientific German terms-- y’know I moved to the states when I was still a kid-- we went to live with my aunt and uncle-- hell, I’m probably more fluent in Japanese than German these days-- is that weird?”

        Newt was chattering so fast that Hermann was having difficulty processing it all it once. It was exhausting.  _Newt_  was exhausting him already in such a brief encounter. Hermann gave him the benefit of the doubt, chalking it up to nerves. They’d message for hours and hours on the internet, but it was never this tedious.

        “Ah well... I’m personally more comfortable speaking my native tongue, however if that’s what you prefer, we shall proceed accordingly.” Hermann compromised, with a half smile.

        “Thanks dude.” Newt smiled, “The more you speak it the easier it gets. I only speak German to my dad these days. And... mom-- Also hey, did you know your English is kind of rusty?”

        Hermann raised his eyebrows, “Is it? What am I saying wrong?”

        “I mean you don’t use slang or idioms, everything you say sounds kind of  _stuffy and contrived_.” Newt ended the sentence in a cartoonishly posh voice.

        “I see...” Hearing Newt mock him stung, but he tried to shake it off. He liked the way he spoke. It was respectable. “Well, are you enjoying yourself?” He changed the subject.

        “I mean it’s cool to be around like-minded science people. I uh, ‘m not a fan of crowds though, makes my brain go a little haywire, total stimulation overload-- but y’know..." Newt squirmed, fiddling with his cufflink, “This crowd is more uh, Jaeger oriented so no one really wants to talk Kaiju but, oh well.”

        Hermann nodded empathetically, “I know. Despite writing the Mark-1 programming code entirely myself, everyone seems to just want to talk about my father. They won’t even address me correctly, they call me ‘Lars’s boy’,  _tch._ ” Hermann twitched.

        “That’s bullshit, man, they owe you more respect than that.” Newt pointed an accusing finger at the gathering beside them.

        “Heh, thank you.” Hermann felt a familiar warm feeling of comradery in his chest again, but it was fleeting.

        “Where is your old man anyway?” Newt asked, squinting at the crowd.

        “My father and I are...  _at odds_  right now.” Hermann rolled his eyes. “He’s been saying some strange things-- something about building tsunami walls, maybe? I dunno. He seems irritable and I’m just trying to avoid him at this point.”

        “Yeah I bet...” Newt replied. Hermann was very private and didn’t often speak of personal matters, but he did vent about his relationship with his father. Newt sympathized in a way, since the relationship with his own mother was... bizarre. He didn’t know what he’d do if his dad wasn’t always there for him.

        There was a tense awkward pause, finally broken by someone trying to wave down Hermann.

        “There he is, that’s Gottlieb’s son," the gray-haired man called out, pointing at Hermann who waved halfheartedly back.

        “Dear God, it keeps getting worse.” Hermann muttered, weighing his options between another uncomfortable conversation with his father’s friends or the slow painful realization that his pen pal was not how he imagined him.

        “Hey, like, if you gotta humor those guys I’ll let you go...” Newt shrugged, his dejected demeanor not hiding his disappointment. It was obvious things weren’t running as smoothly as he'd hoped.

        “Perhaps...” Hermann sighed. “No. No wait, um, why don’t you come with me.”

        “Really?” Newt perked up. No one around here was giving him the time of day. Maybe Hermann was an in.

        “Yes, and maybe if they see me with  _you,_  they’ll leave me alone...” Hermann muttered as he turned to walk towards the group.

        “Hermann, is it?” A Latino man asked as the two approached.

        “Ah yes, he does look like he’d be Lars’s son, doesn’t he?” Remarked a British man.

        “Don’t you look studious.” A middle-aged woman cooed.

        “Where is your father, boy?” Interrogated the gray-haired man who beckoned him over.

        Hermann cringed. He was 28 years old, already a decade into adulthood, and it appeared no one here was willing to treat him as such. They were speaking as if he was a child. Newt detected it too, and glared at them, though no one seemed to notice.

        “I’ve lost track of my father, regrettably.” Hermann replied.

        “Oh listen to him!” the British man laughed, “He doesn’t sound like Lars at all! Where’s the accent?”

        “I attended prep school in the UK.” Hermann clarified politely, trying to ignore the patronizing tone.

        “Ah yes, as I recall he was the only boy Lars sent off like that!” the gray-haired man said. “Saw potential in this one.”

        The group was all but oohing and ahhing. Newt didn’t hide his obvious eye-roll over it. He didn’t understand how Hermann could grin and bear such condescending cloying.

        “I’m sorry about the...” the man nodded towards the cane. “Such a shame for a young kid like you.”

        The fake smile slipped off Hermann’s face and turned into something indescribable as they all looked at him with woeful eyes. Newt couldn’t stand it anymore.

        “Hey, this ‘kid’ programmed the first Jaeger code,” he interjected, somewhat venomously. Hermann looked at him in surprise. “None of us would be here if it weren’t for him.”

        “And who are you?”

        “Newt Geiszler,” he answered, puffing out his chest.

        “ _Newton_  Geiszler? The kid who got all those scholarships?” the woman inquired haughtily.

        “And was a professor at twenty.” Newt added.

        “Oh...” She nodded lukewarmly. “We’ve heard of you.”

        The group gave him a few slighting looks.

        “I lead the K-Science team in Tokyo, which is arguably the best in the world,” he crowed.

        “No no, I think that distinction goes to Anchorage,” the gray-haired man smirked, shaking his head.

         _“Anchorage?”_ Newt said the name like it was a disgusting taste in his mouth. “Pshh, did you see their last Kaiju take-down? They used missiles on armored skin, like--- those pilots are vets and should know better-- K-Science should have known better.”

        The crew started to frown. Hermann looked at Newt pleadingly, but Newt wasn’t paying attention.

        “Those Danger newbs that flew in only killed the sucker by ignoring the bridge all together and using their own creative wits. I mean, beheading it with a crane? Genius! That’s thinking on your feet.”

        “Yes, I know. I was there,” the man growled. “I was commander on deck that day.”

        Newt seemed unruffled, “Well I hope you gave them all a talking to, 'cause boy, talk about embarrassing...” Something sparked behind his thick frames, “Oh yeah, speaking of Yamarashi--”

        “Well, it was nice to see you, son,” the man interrupted, looking at Hermann and patting him on the shoulder. “Tell your father I give him my best.”

        “Of course, sir.” Hermann nodded, and raised his arm suddenly, as though he was unsure if he should salute.

        The man turned to Newt. “Have fun in Hong Kong,” he sneered.

        “Tokyo!” Newt called back as the group walked away. “You could learn a thing from us.”

        People were starting to stare at the two millennials. Hermann cringed. Maybe having Newt around him in this setting wasn’t a good idea. Newt’s combativeness and disrespectful tone was not going to gain him any friends, and he might scare away the people Hermann was so desperate to gain favor with.

        “Hey, Newton, I have somewhere I need to be.”

        Newt was taken aback, his eyes huge and blinking, “Oh um... will I see you later? Maybe we can grab a drink after--”

        “It’s possible but not probable.” Hermann interrupted. “Not tonight anyway. Honestly I didn’t know you were going to be here and unfortunately I have some prior commitments.”

        “Oh.” Newt deflated, eyes still wide.

        “Sorry.” Hermann mumbled, feeling bad about lying to Newton’s face.

        “I got to see you though, wow, oh my god.” Newt beamed, “I mean, I was starting to wonder if it’d ever happen.”

        After three years of long-distance friendship Hermann still hadn’t been sure if he was ready to meet Newt and denied all of his invites to grab a beer with him in Tokyo -- which was only a two hour flight now that Hermann was stationed in Vladivostok, as Newt constantly reminded him.

        “Yes well, it’s been very nice seeing you as well...” Hermann said, voice trailing off, looking around for an exit strategy. He felt drained and awkward and started wishing the conversation would end. He mentally kicked himself. After all, this was his beloved confidante and that was just  _rude_. Even if Newt was so... annoying.

        He looked back over to say goodbye and noticed Newt had rolled up his sleeves.

        “ _Mein Gott_ , Geiszler,  _willst du mich auf den Arm nehmen_?” Hermann hissed in his native tongue, mortified--  _Are you kidding me?_

        “What?” Newt looked genuinely alarmed.

        “Your arm-- you put a Kaiju on your arm?” he moaned.

        “Yeah-- It’s Yamarashi!” Newt perked up, “I was just about to show you but then those jerks left. I’m gonna get a sleeve--”

        “Do you know where we are right now?!” Hermann stared at him incredulously, “Do you even... no, can the tiny part of your brain that has common sense see how that might be, oh I don’t know, extremely offensive?”

        “How?”

        “They’ve murdered millions-- billions, maybe-- and you want to wear caricatures of them on your arms?”

        “They're killing machines, but they're still animals.” Newt reasoned calmly, “That's like... comparing sharks to Hitler.”

        “Doctor Gei--”

        “Newt,” he corrected, “Just Newt.”

        “...  _Newton_... If this is some joke or game it’s not a very good one. I know you’re not stupid.”

        Newt’s brows furrowed with frustrated confusion.

        “Oh god that’s right you... have trouble gauging these sort of things. Ah, um. Look, Newton.” Hermann leaned in to whisper, “There are people here who witnessed Yamarashi’s attack, as you’ve just seen. There are people who have had loved ones killed by Kaiju. Don’t you think that having them on your arms could be interpreted the wrong way? Don’t you think it could be  _triggering_?”

        “Alright, alright,” Newt said, stepping back and tugging down his sleeve, “Jeez, Herm---”

        “Dr. Gottlieb,” he corrected sternly. His lips tightened.

        “Excuse me?” Newt was gobsmacked.

        “It’s Dr. Gottlieb,” he repeated with force, stressing every syllable.

        “Oh really? That’s how it’s gonna be?” Newt squinted, cocking his head to the side, “When you’re with all your dad’s friends you’re gonna act like you’re too fancy for me or whatever the hell this is?”

        “Asking you to address me as my title when we’re around our scientific colleagues is not ‘acting fancy’. It’s demanding respect.” Hermann replied through gritted teeth.

        “Yeah well I demand respect too.” Newt aggressively pointed at himself.

        “You insist people call you ‘Newt’. Why are you running away from your title? Are you ashamed of your achievements?” Hermann asked softly, trying to get Newt to follow suit and lower his voice.

        “Hell no, I’m not ashamed.” Newt waved his hands, “Just going by ‘doctor’ all the time is stuffy and pomp. I’m just a normal guy.”

        “Really Newton?” Hermann dropped his arm to his side, “So that’s worth losing the respect of your peers for?”

        “I don’t need to be boring and vanilla to be respected.”

        “People will not respect you unless you ‘get a grip’. Yes, there’s an idiom for you,” he added as Newt made a face of disdain, “Newton you need to act properly for once. People are impressed that you’re such a prodigy -- teaching at MIT at 20 is a staggering achievement Newton and you should be proud--’

        “I  _am_.” Newton chirped.

        “But they also think you’re  _immature_. Look around you, everyone here is middle-aged.”

        It was true. Everyone Newt had encountered, besides staff, had been well into their forties.

        Hermann put a hand on Newt’s shoulder, “You and I are the youngest scientists here by far. They think I’m riding on my father’s coat-tails, we  _both_  need to prove ourselves--”

        “But I’ve done more than enough for this program, I demand to be taken seriously!”

        Newt was beginning to raise his voice again and people were starting to glance over at the pair with raised eyebrows. Hermann replied to them with an apologetic smile, and nudged Newt lightly towards the door leading out of the mess hall of the Shatterdome.

        They were now in a corridor, where every sound echoed off the metal beams, but far enough from the loud drone of the party to go unheard.

        “You want to be taken seriously? Don’t be tattooing killing machines onto your arms-- oh for God’s sake Newton,” Hermann pulled up Newton’s wrist in despair, “That’s  _permanent_ , it even sneaks onto your hand, you can’t hide that!”

        “My validity as a scientist shouldn’t be reduced to whether I have tattoos on my arms. People shouldn’t judge me for that--”

        “But they will!” Hermann cried out, “Look, my father knows who you are-- if you were not invited he probably had something to do with it.”

        “What?” Newt gasped, “But you and I are friends!”

        “He has no idea I’ve been corresponding with you, especially in such a... deep manner--” Hermann started to blush.

        “Are you  _ashamed_  of me?”

        “Stop being so melodramatic! Look, Newton, if you want the respect of your peers, and of my father, then for God’s sake act the part! Dress the part! This ‘rock star’ thing is a little immature, not to mention cliché.”

        “What and become like you? A drone who lets people treat him like a child, has his dad talk and make decisions for him, and dresses like my Opa?"

        “I am not a drone--” Hermann growled, pointing a finger at Newt.

        “I’ve seen the way you dress, Herm.” Newt continued on, ignoring him, “You’re not even 30 yet, and you look 70.”

        “I dress that way because I want to be--”

        “You worry about being alone but I mean how are you gonna get a date--” he teased.

        “I am seeing a very nice woman right now who I like very much, thank you.” Hermann snapped.

        “Wait, wait, you’re  _dating_  someone?” Newt’s heart dropped into his stomach, “Is she  _here?_  Why didn’t you tell me?”

        “Why should I tell you? It’s  _personal_ ,” he glowered.

        “We tell each other  _everything,_  Hermann--” Newt squeaked.

        “It’s _Dr. Gottlieb_ , and no we do not.”

        Newt’s eyes lowered, “I tell  _you_  everything.”

        Hermann sighed loudly, pinching the sides of his nose, “I can’t be your only confidante.”

        “What’s her name?”

        “That’s none of your business.”

        “It’s not like I’ll know her.” Newt said defiantly.

        Hermann was silent.

        “Do I know her?” Newt pried apprehensively.

        “Her name is Vanessa, and it’s not official--” Hermann answered quietly, “We’re keeping it on the hush-hush, we don’t want...  _I_  don’t want it to become the topic of gossip.”

        “Where did you meet her?” Newt pressed.

        “Dear god, Newton, you are sounding like a jealous ex-lover or something, what is wrong with you?”

        “My friend just drops this bombshell on me and I’m not allowed to know anything about it?”

        “Newton--  _ugh_. I met her in the waiting room for my physical therapist back in London. She’s very witty and lovely and she doesn’t let anything get in her way of achieving her dreams.”

        “What does she do?”

        “She’s um... she’s an arts major with a sociology minor and uh... models.”

        “A  _model?_ Dude!”

        “ _There you go_ \--” Hermann made a pleading face, “Do you see why I want to keep this quiet?”

        “How’d you get a model? Nerds don’t get babes.”

        “I mean she’s not a model anymore or-- she had an accident, that’s why she was there -- she can’t walk runways anymore, not yet--”

        Newt wasn’t listening again. “Everything in your life is perfect.”

        Hermann’s jaw dropped, “Perfect, are you  _kidding me_?”

        “You’ve got a famous dad, and money, and the respect of your peers, and a hot model on your arm.” Newt ranted.

        “She’s not a trophy she’s a  _human being_ \--” Hermann said with disgust, “She’s very nice and we have a lot in common. I didn’t--”

        “Why do you have everything and I have nothing?” Newt felt such jealousy, he thought he might cry, “What am I doing wrong?”

        Hermann finally reached his boiling point, “Because unlike you I am not putting on this facade of something I’m not and driving a wedge between myself and everyone around me with my ego-driven paranoia," he snarled.

        Newt blinked in disbelief.

        Hermann leaned in closer, “There’s a reason you weren’t invited, Newton. Everyone thinks you’re crazy.”

        Newt's eyes glistened and darted wildly, “E-Everyone thought Mulder was weird and crazy an-and they shoved him away but he was the hero and he was vindicated--”

        “You need to stop comparing yourself to him--”

        “Dude, you talk about Turing all the ti--”

        “ _Because he was real_ , Newton.” Hermann was at his wit's end. “This is real life, and life is not fair. And it's not some sci-fi fantasy.”

        “Aliens are real, and the only difference is everyone on the planet knows it and  _still_  they all laugh at the weirdo who's devoted his life to them.” Newt threw his hands up in frustration, then looked at Hermann sadly, “I thought  _you_  were different, Hermann. You were supposed to be my Scully; My level-headed partner who sees what I don't and has my back when the going gets tough. But you’re just like them.”

        Hermann felt a pang of guilt. “I’m not like  _them_ , I actually believe in you.”

        “Save it, man. I know your kind.” Newt lowered his head in defeat, “You’re just gonna play two-faced so that no matter if I succeed or fail you can pretend like you were on the right side all along, cause you can’t deal with being wrong.”

        “Well it sounds like you’ve got me all figured out.” Hermann tried to say as stoically as possible, “If I say a word otherwise you’ll call me a liar, so I won’t waste my breath on it.” Hermann didn’t feel like he could breathe anyway.

        “This was a mistake. This was a _big_ mistake.” Newt was smiling with disbelief, shaking his head, trying not to let on how heartbroken he was, “I came here because I wanted to see you, and it turns out you’re not the guy I thought you were.”

        Hermann felt like he was shattering too. “You’ve got me all wrong, Newt. Just like they’ve got  _you_  all wrong."

        "Excuse me but I gotta go support my friend-- my  _real_  friend who actually invited me here.” Newt sneered, then turned away, “Bye, Dr. Gottlieb. Enjoy your perfect life.”

        Newt stormed off before Hermann could see the tears start to flow.

        ---

        This was now the worst day of Newt’s life as well. He had flown on a plane all the way from Japan to be here. He had begged Dr. Otis to let him be his plus one, convincing him his wife shouldn’t fly. (“Dude what if the cabin pressure, like, pushes her into labor or something? Do you want to put her through that? Jus' sayin'...”)

        Nevertheless Newt desperately wanted to see the man he considered his best friend, someone he had fantasized about sharing a lab with, and the slight chance that he might catch a mere glimpse of him made the eighteen hour flight seem worth it.

        It was not.

        Newt was starting to feel panicked and overwhelmed. He was in a strange place where no one wanted him, with no friends, and he just lost the closest thing he ever had to one. An ex-soulmate, as far as Newt was concerned. He had never felt such a raging high and crushing low in one day before. This wasn’t something that could be remedied by his medication. This was no chemical imbalance, this was a knife through the heart.

        He rushed down the halls looking for some form of refuge. He spotted a small bathroom and burst through the door, locking himself inside. He began pacing like an anxious animal, trying to steady his breath, but instead he just felt like weeping.

        He loved this guy with all his heart. As much as he could possibly be in love with another human being. Newt was ace, maybe even aro, but all he knew for sure was that these were the most intense feelings he had ever harbored for someone. Hermann was at the back of his mind constantly for the past 3 years, and he turned out to be so damn  _awful_.

        “Stupid.  _Stupid_.” Newt hissed, kicking his foot against the tile wall.

        Newt had been afraid to meet him. He’d hid in the back corner watching Hermann chatting with his peers. Hermann smiled brightly during the conversations, but his thumb rubbed against the smooth metal of his cane handle anxiously, as Newt knew he didn’t want to be there at all.

        While Newt was present he didn’t see Lars Gottlieb anywhere, which was probably a good thing. His fierce admiration for Hermann at the time would have probably resulted in being escorted out by security after taking a swing at Lars.

        Hermann rarely spoke of personal matters, but he had once confessed how he hated that his father paraded him around to the other scientists like a show-pony. Not because he was particularly proud of his son; Lars just wanted Hermann there to represent another one of his own achievements.

        ‘ _My_  son wrote the programming code.’ Lars Gottlieb would say, ‘ _I_  saw his potential for mathematical genius.  _I’m_  the reason he is what he is today.”

        Hearing this had made Newt angry, and he felt sorry for his friend. His dad was a jerk. Unfortunately it seemed to run in the family and now he realized Hermann was a jerk too. A two-faced jerk. Maybe the biggest jerk.

        “Idiot. What a stupid  _asshole._ ” Newt choked out between heaving gasps.  _“Dummkopf.”_

        Newt was no longer sure who he was talking about; Hermann or himself. He then slid to the floor and started to sob.

        ---

        Hermann had also found himself a room to hide in. It was a small break room, with a few comfy chairs. He had pushed one in front of the door, so no one would bother him, and collapsed on a small sofa. He was now mentally and physically exhausted. His body hurt all over, but it was nothing compared to the pain in his heart.

        He dug his fingers into his palm, wishing his nails were not so worn down so he could draw blood. It was a thing he used to do as a child when he felt extremely emotional but knew that his father would berate him if he showed it. He pressed harder and harder, but he could only feel the sadness rising in his chest.

        His father wasn’t here in this break room. His father had left him alone. There was no reason to hide his emotions here. Hermann looked at the door again. He wanted Newton to burst through and apologize. He wanted to apologize too. No... no, he didn’t. Newt didn’t care about anyone but himself. But Hermann cared about Newt. He was an awful jealous arrogant man and still he cared about him.

        The feelings he had for Newton were vastly different from what he had experienced with his girlfriend. Vanessa made him tongue-tied and shy. But the level of comfort he felt when telling Newt extremely personal things and his deepest thoughts, and the ease in which they flowed out, was something he’d never experienced. Dating someone was exciting, but Newt made him feel safe. Or did. It was over now.

        Hermann lied down on his side. He brought his arms over his head and finally let the tears spill over. He cried for Newt. He cried for himself. He cried for the death of what had been a very beautiful relationship, and for what could have been between them.

        ----

        After that, there was radio silence for almost three years.

        Newt occasionally heard Hermann's name brought up in others conversations, as the programmer was quickly becoming a very known and revered figure in the organization, and each and every time it was like a stab to the gut.  _Remember how you used to like that guy? Boy, were you a fool._

        Hermann also heard secondhand updates about Newt's career and achievements. Also it seemed things hadn't changed and the manic man was still just as much as a self-absorbed nut as he was when they parted ways. Despite this, part of Hermann was rooting for him, and he didn't know why.

        They didn't speak a word until they were shoved together into the tiny Hong Kong lab, against their will.

        Now nearly eight years later the two scientists were lying in bed. Together.

        Newt bestirred from his slumber, lingering feelings from a dream making his stomach hurt. Something about crying... over losing someone. As he felt the presence next to him those emotional remnants were pulled from his body like a tide rushing away from shore.

        Hermann's forehead was resting against Newt's bare shoulder. Newt could feel eyelashes fluttering against his skin, but still couldn’t tell if Hermann was awake or just in REM sleep. Hermann’s ankle was hooked over one of Newt's. It felt almost icy on Newt’s hot skin.

        He glanced over at the clock. It was 3 AM, much too early to get up.

        “Are you OK?” Newt whispered, just audible enough to see if Hermann was awake.

        “Mmhmm.” Hermann replied, “Cold.”

         _'Next time you’re cold, just cozy up next to me.'_  Newt had said that morning. He started to blush, realizing Hermann had actually accepted the invitation. In any other occasion, he would have been embarrassed by the sudden rush of blood to his face but now in the dark it was just extra heat for his bedmate to soak up.

        “Do you want me to turn up the temp?” Newt asked.

        “This is fine.” Hermann murmured. “If you get up you’ll let out all the body heat.”

        Newt could feel hot breath against his skin with each word. Gosh, this was close.

        “I want to apologize for something...” Newt whispered, half hoping Hermann wouldn't hear.

        “ _Nngh_ , later, Newt. Let's just...” His voice trailed off.

        Newt felt Hermann’s breathing begin to slow again and as much as he wanted to stay up and savor the moment, the rhythmic sound made him sleepy again, and he quickly fell back into much happier dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if a new chapter will be up by the end of the year because of holidays, but wow, thanks for all your support. I know I say it every time but seriously you guys are awesome and I never expected any of this. Have a happy safe end-of-year-whatever, and thanks for spending 2014 putting up with me and my slow updates. Love ya.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, sorry for the wait. I wanted to post this sooner but the planned chapter split into two (again) and I had two back to back con weekends, one in which I was working. I really buckled down on this to have it done for the month. I proved to myself I can write a lot in a short amount of time if I put my mind to it. So, yeah, enjoy.

        In his life there were only a few occasions where Newt could recall sharing a bed. All partners were platonic, mostly familial, and he could even count them on one hand:

        His dad who snored like a freight train.

        His cousin who sleep-fought with imaginary dream-people and once rudely awoke Newt with a hard elbow to the nose.

        His old college roommate during Newt’s first (and last) spring break, who every ten minutes puked over the side of the dingy hotel mattress into a plastic trash pail.

        And now his lab partner, who was the most enjoyable experience by far, for various reasons that weren’t limited to the lack of vomit, racket, and bodily harm.

        Throughout the night Newt had been pleasantly surprised by how comforting the smallest amount of body contact could be, even if it was just something so simple as feeling a warm back against his own. The times in which he could not feel Hermann’s form against him, the tell-tale sounds that reminded him he was not alone in the darkness were something to be savoured, along with the subtle tug of the bedsheets and caress of soft fabric brushing over his skin. This was all so gratifying, the purest of pleasures. And _so new_.

        Hermann, however, had been accustomed to sharing a bed from an early age. In fact he was practically forced into it during most of his childhood, as his family did not have enough space for all the Gottlieb children in their small yet lavishly decorated home back in Bavaria, (inherited by their father from his father, and so on).

        His sister and eldest brother got their own rooms, leaving Hermann and Bastien to occupy the tiny “guest” room. Appropriate, since Hermann always felt like a guest in his own house. It was as though he was living in someone else’s preserved memory, having to clean and care for it, but never allowed to leave a mark of his existence. The only proof a child named Hermann ever resided there was merely a small scuff on the wooden floor, (which he had been fiercely scolded for), now covered up by an antique rug. This was just the beginning of what would be a life spent in temporary lodging. Sadly, Hermann had yet to experience the abstract concept known as ‘home’ he had heard so much about.

        He finally got his own bed in prep school, but it soon became a lonely spot Hermann spent imprisoned in when his health and mobility began to worsen. He watched the seasons from his window and tried not to think about all the fun he was missing out on as the other boys played in the field below.

        Same went for his university days. Other than his roommate, his only visitors were school counselors checking in on his well-being, and classmates he never spoke to awkwardly dropping off his assignments on the days where he missed class. “Bed-ridden” became a word which he heard more frequently, thrown at him clinically by doctors and whispered behind him by gawking students as he shuffled through the halls. A word that struck so much fear in his heart he began to resent the idea of beds entirely.

        It wasn’t until the long nights working for the PPDC that Hermann began to consider his bed as a refuge. Though technically the room didn’t belong to him, he was determined to at least create the illusion of something that was his own. He hung up photos of his heroes, lit candles and burned incense, like he was building some sort of altar to cosmonauts and scientists long passed. He put proper bed sheets on his mattress, replacing the starchy ones supplied by the government. It became _his_ place where he could shed everything and everyone and just be alone. Unguarded. Vulnerable. At peace.

        And now, due to recent and unforeseen events, his personal oasis had been intruded upon. Kind of.

        Hermann had not shared such a cramped space with a bedmate since he was a young boy, though this time it was far from unpleasant. Actually it was rather nice, he thought as his brain began to stir for the day. A small part of him had missed how snug and safe the cocoon between wall and body could feel. He wasn’t sure why it was making him homesick for a time and place that was so dark in his memory, but perhaps even the poorest of childhoods seemed nostalgic with enough distance.

        Not being completely dead to the world, as he was their first night together, Hermann noticed how Newt gave off heat as though he were an electric blanket. A few points in the night a half-asleep Hermann wanted nothing more than to embrace him-- _‘Just to absorb even more warmth, of course’,_ he told himself. Newton was presumably soft too. He had gained some more weight in recent months, but it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. It probably made him... pillowy.

        He turned his head and found himself unnervingly close to a sleeping Newt’s face, Hermann’s nose almost touching his cheek. He sat up slightly, flustered. Newt was lying between their two respective pillows, snoring softly, lips parted, almost angelic in presence. Far from the insufferable showboat he was used to, with the grating voice and sardonic grin.

        Hermann nudged Newt cautiously, who in return squeaked but didn’t wake. He continued to breathe heavily in slumber.

        Being the first to rise gave Hermann an accidental chance to see Newt at his most vulnerable. Sure, Newt napped in odd places around the lab regularly, but Hermann seldom approached the dozing scientist unless it was to smack him awake with a throw pillow. And it wasn’t as though Hermann had ever _desired_ to survey his coworker in such a state, but it was a rare opportunity and in the moment his curiosity got the best of him.

        The first thing that struck Hermann was that he’d never seen Newt without his thick rimmed glasses so close up before.

        Newt had some severe shadows beneath his eyes, to the point where one would almost fear they were bruised. A nebula made of greens and purples swirled together under his lashes, in a way that wasn’t all that unattractive.

        He had distinct crows feet, probably set in from firing off glaring looks in Hermann’s direction, or perhaps from simply laughing at his own sophomoric jokes too much.

        Whatever the case, the lines and dark circles were proof to anyone that Newt was an over-worked and over-stressed night-owl, with the weight of the world on his young but weary shoulders.

        Also, there were freckles. So many freckles. Newt was quite possibly as pale as Hermann himself, all pigmentation just an illusion of specks blurring together. Hermann could probably get lost mapping all the constellations of the stars on Newt’s skin, in the same dreamy way he did whenever he gazed at the heavens above.

        Hermann shook himself from his current line of thought, back to earth. He cleared his throat and straightened up, as if to regain composure. He glanced back at Newt to see if the noise had woken him. Newt hadn’t even twitched.

        Hermann pushed a bit harder against Newt’s leg with his own. “Newton?”

        “Uhnn...” Newt stirred, eyelids fluttering and then slowly meeting Hermann’s gaze. He took a deep sleepy breath and smiled fondly. “Hey, Herm.”

        “Morning.” Hermann gave him a shy simper back. He noticed how Newt’s lines had deepened even more, and suddenly found it unnerving to make eye contact.

        “Did you need something?” Newt asked as he flexed his back.

        Hermann shook his head quickly. “No, I’m fine. It’s just... as I said; _morning_.”

        “Oh,” Newt rubbed his eyes, “You OK? How you feelin’?” he asked between yawns.

        “I’m alright.”

        “You oriented?”

        “Uhhh-- Oh, yes, I’m not disoriented this time, if that’s what you mean.”

        “Mmm. Cool.” Newt sluggishly replied, battling to stay awake. "That's a good sign, yeah?"

        “ _I’ll have to up it again...”_ Hermann mumbled to himself.

        “Hmm?” Newt scratched the back of his head groggily.

        “Nothing. I just... wish I could have gotten a tad more sleep last night.”

        Newt’s face fell, “Shit, you didn’t sleep?!”

        “Eh, half-asleep.” Hermann shrugged, “I’m afraid I was in and out of it all night.”

        “Oh man, I’m sorry.” Newt’s shoulders slumped and he became small, as though he was literally deflating, “I hope it wasn’t me...”

        “No, no--” Hermann reassured.

        “‘Cause like, what’s the point of me being here if I’m keeping you up and you’re not getting your rest.”

        “But I _liked_   having you there. Listening to you breathe.” Hermann admitted, “It was like white noise, relaxing, even though I wasn’t really fully asleep.”

        “So it wasn’t a _bad_ sleepless night?” Newt inquired hopefully.

        “Well it definitely wasn’t a _restful_ night, for either of us, I think. You woke up too. That’s unusual for you, right?”

        “Yeah, but I think it was because of a dream.” Newt replied, looking away.

        “Ah. Not a night terror, I hope?” Hermann knew how Newt suffered from them during periods of extreme stress.

        “Nah. You? Any bad dreams, I mean.”

        “Just some strange half-dreams. I dreamt we had a whole conversation about... um...”

        “Huh?” Newt’s curiosity piqued.

        “I can’t remember now.” Hermann said quickly, trying to avoid the subject, as Newt could tell.

        “Abouuuut--”

        “You wanted to say something to me?” Hermann interrupted.

        “Huh?” Newt’s voice creaked.

        “Last night, you woke up briefly and said you wanted to apologize.”

        “Oh... ummmm.” Newt suddenly remembered the dream, and the touching, and the feeling of Hermann’s soft skin. He also felt his temperature rising in response.

        “This isn’t going to blow up into some big deal, is it?” Hermann sighed, “Because honestly I’m not in the mood for a fight.”

        “No, it’s just... the dream I had. It reminded me of something.”

        “Ah.” Hermann looked a bit nervous.

        There was awkward tension thick in the air, different from their usual kind. They were both dreading the unsaid thing that the other might say. Worst case scenarios running through their heads. They worried that saying the wrong words at the wrong time would ruin the sudden calm in the storm of their tumultuous relationship.

        “I think I...” Newt began. Hermann jumped at the sound of his voice, which in turn made Newt more anxious. “I, uh... I think I had a dream we were like... not speaking again.”

        “O-Oh?” Hermann queried, voice catching slightly.

        “It made me realize... even if we fight, sometimes... or _a lot_... like...” Newt took a deep breath, “I’m glad we’re not cutting ties completely anymore.”

        Hermann let out an exhale. Newt sucked in his lip apprehensively, waiting for a response.

        “Well in such increasingly close quarters I don’t believe we could cut ties if we tried.” Hermann said dryly.

        Newt laughed nervously, to which Hermann replied with one of his reassuring smirks.

        Hermann shrugged slightly, “You know, oddly enough, in all honesty I was thinking the same thing.”

        “Then I guess let’s promise to keep yelling at each other?” Newt suggested with amused incredulity.

        Hermann chuckled. Then winced.

        “You OK?” Newt asked worriedly.

        “Yeah, just... _spasm_. Nothing too out of the ordinary.”

        “You’d tell me if it was, though? Out of the ordinary?”

        “Of course,” Hermann said in an unconvincing tone.

        Newt frowned, doubting Hermann’s sincerity, but said nothing.

        “It’s just...” Hermann started, “Divulging specifics... raising concern... wouldn’t that cause you unnecessary stress?” Hermann thought back to the superficial effects already evident on Newton’s sleeping face.

        “S’better than telling me nothing. Otherwise my brain goes into WebMD mode, like ‘ _It’s a brain tumor, he’s dying_!’” Newt gave a small uneasy chortle.

        Hermann nodded lethargically, looking down at his lap.

        Newt swallowed loudly. “ _Jesus H._ , Herm, it’s not, _is it?_ ” he choked out.

        “What?” Hermann gazed at him inquisitively, as if he hadn’t heard. A pang went through his core as he realized Newt looked as if he might start crying.

        “It’s.. it’s not gonna _k-kill you_ is it--”

        “Oh _dear heavens_ , Newton,” Hermann put a hand to his chest, “No, _no_ , it’s nothing like _that_. Goodness me!”

         Newt clutched his face with both hands and combed them back through his hair. “Oh _God,_ dude, you scared the _shit_ out of me for a second.”

        “Newton, _you dear thing_ ,” Hermann murmured comfortingly, clasping his hand onto Newt’s blanketed knee. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten. Please don’t make yourself sick over me. That won't help either of us. I assure you, you have a lifetime of quarrelling with me ahead of you.”

        Newt snorted. “OK. You better make good on that.”

        “I will.” Hermann promised, unsure if a lifetime in this day and age meant fifty more years or two more weeks.

        ---

         They both got themselves ready for the day. As before, Newt left for his own dorm allowing Hermann to go about his morning rituals in private. He tried not to speculate on what Hermann was doing in there, as that was _his_ personal business and exactly why Hermann didn’t want Newt to bear witness. But at the same time being secretive could _only_ lead to speculation, and imaginations can always run wild. Newt repeated _‘Leave it be. Leave it be.”_ in his head like a mantra, hoping his mind would obey.

        As Newt opened his own door he recoiled as he caught a whiff of the air inside. It was stale, like unsealing an old room that hadn’t been aired out in months. He never remembered it barraging his senses in such a way before. Even the hints of his cologne wafting through the air seemed unpleasant. Hermann’s room smelled so much better. Graced by the fragrance of tea and incense, without a trace of anything sour. He suddenly felt self-conscious and wondered if Hermann might let him borrow some of his candles if he moved back to his old room.

        “ _When_ I move back”, he corrected, stomach dropping a bit.

        Newt changed, found his small drawstring knapsack, (hidden under some old laundry), and packed it full of clothes. Even though he often did wear the same thing a few days in a row, he realized if someone saw him leaving Hermann’s room in the same outfit it could seem a little... questionable. And if someone got the wrong idea, well, Hermann would probably kill him.

        He made his way back to Hermann’s room, and found the man waiting for him on the steps outside, dressed in a tan striped sweater. His shoulders were hunched and he was rubbing the handle of his cane thoughtfully, but then stopped and straightened up once he saw who was approaching.

        “Alright?” Hermann asked.

        “Yeah, you?” Newt replied, suspiciously.

        “Of course.”

        ---

        Walking to the lab together was nothing new. Hermann could easily pass by Newt’s dorm on the way there, and often rapped on the door with his cane until Newt answered, to make sure the biologist was up and ready for work at an appropriate hour.

         The hall was where they did their best collective brainstorming. They’d even take long winding walks together when in need of fresh ideas, and being within earshot of others kept the arguments they _did_ have from getting out of hand and too personal.

         That’s not to say they didn’t have a few choice words to say about _others_. Newt and Hermann butted heads constantly, but when they did have a common enemy they were completely united.

        “I realized yesterday that they didn’t even _send_ me all of the friggin forms,” Newt growled, his fingers curling in front of him as if he were fantasizing about strangling the person responsible.

        “Again?” Hermann groaned incredulously.

        “Yeah again.” Newt scoffed.

        “My god, can those people do anything right?”

        Newt waved his hand, “People outside the rim, they’re detached, man.”

        “Hoarding supplies, not a care in the world. Never mind that world is ending.” Hermann rolled his eyes.

        “Yeah throw some of that shit our way. But noooo, I say one word about it and suddenly I’m unprofessional. Like, I’m sorry, are _you_ fighting the war?” Newt questioned the imaginary man he was choking previously.

        “They’ll always find some way to place the blame on us.”

        “Oh, it’s _gotta_ be political, dude. Some petty political vendetta because we supported the Jaeger program and were so outspoken about how much the Kaiju walls sucked ass.”

        “That wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest. They've never respected the two of us. You especially,” he added.

        “They put up all the red tape, not me. I’m trying to follow their rules, but _ohhhh nooo_ ,” Newt changed into a deep pompous voice, “ _We can’t be bothered to check to see if we’re sending the right paperwork before we send it halfway around the globe in an archaic fashion_ \--- Because who the hell even sends paper forms anymore, it’s 2024!!.”

        “They’re bumbling old men, the lot of them. No sense of urgency. Wasting our bloody time.” Hermann said viciously.

        “Which also makes me wonder if they’re even milking before sending them, because yeah, I can do it, I built the damn prototype out of scrap, but _urghhhh_ if I have to waste precious time milking in a room with barely enough ventilation-- remember last time?--”

        “Don’t remind me.” Hermann grumbled.

        “--You nearly keeled over, I am not having that again. I'm not afraid to throw a shit-fit, I am at my wit’s end, man, that could be time wasted that we _as a species_ can’t afford. But until the correct forms get here I’m kinda in work lim... bo....”

        Newt suddenly noticed his friend was no longer walking beside him and swiveled around. “Herm?”

        Hermann was back almost ten paces, frozen mid-stride. He was hunched forward slightly, with a bewildered look on his face.

        “Woahhh... you OK?” Newt called back, almost afraid to approach.

        “It’s stuck.”

        “What? Stuck?” Newt was getting a sudden case of deja vu.

        “Yes.”

        “What’s stu--”

        “MY LEG-- My leg, it’s stuck-- the muscle... it...”

        “It what, dude?” Newt slowly stepped towards his friend.

        Hermann didn’t answer, he just scrunched up his face.

        “Herm? Herms, what do we do?” Newt asked frantically.

        Hermann was staring wildly at some point on the floor, as if he were meeting the gaze of a venomous snake.

        “Dude.” Newt tried to get Hermann’s eyes to meet his, but it was like he was invisible. “Dude you’re freaking me out.”

        Hermann often complained of the strange things his body did. Not too frequently, but Newt was smart enough to know that just because Hermann wasn’t sharing didn’t mean he wasn’t working through some sort of discomfort.

        Now and then Hermann would simply vanish from sight, and Newt would find his colleague off in a corner. He had made himself small, hidden, usually behind a desk or large piece of equipment. Frozen in pain but not wanting anyone to see. Newt quickly learned not to allow himself to show too much concern in these situations. Instead, a casual offer of aid was permitted, as long as Newt took no for an answer and left swiftly.

        “ _Please leave me alone.”_ Hermann had said quietly yet firmly the first time Newt discovered him, sitting on the steps of his alcove.

        “ _I can help--”_

        “ _PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE.”_

        It rattled Newt like a kicked puppy, but it did the job.

        This was different though. This was the first-- no, now second occasion he had seen Hermann completely freeze like this. And in less than a week’s time.

        “Give me your hand.” Hermann said distantly, slowly grasping at the air in front of him as if he couldn’t see Newt at all.

         Newt promptly grabbed it and held on tightly, not sure what to do. Hermann’s hand was clammy and trembling. Newt squeezed reassuringly, not to say everything was going to be alright, but to say if it _wasn’t_   Newt would be right there beside him.

        “Help me-- Help me sit--” Hermann requested through gritted teeth.

        Newt hooked his free arm under the one Hermann had gripping the cane, and helped lower him against the wall, delicately.

        Hermann let out a long exhale once his back touched concrete, finally allowing his body to relax. Newt kneeled next to him.

        “Shit, man.” Newt thought out loud.

        Hermann closed his eyes and started taking slow deep breaths. Newt involuntarily matched suit, watching the other’s face attentively, looking for a sign, an order of what to do next.

        “Out in the hallway?” Hermann whispered to himself, or his body, in a scolding tone. “I mean _really_...”

        “This happen often or is it new?”

        “It snuck up on me.” Hermann avoided the question. “I got so carried away in conversation I didn’t see it coming.”

        “Should we wait here--”

         Hermann’s eyes snapped open, “ _Oh god no_ , someone will see...”

        “Well then we’re getting out of here. We’ll just---”

         "Oh my god,” Hermann moaned, “This is _embarrassing_ this is so--"

        “NO! Dude, let me go get a rolling chair.”

        “No, no, Newton please-- _I can’t!_ ” Hermann’s voice raised in pitch, startling Newt.

        Hermann had never told anyone, but one of his most reoccurring nightmares was of being trapped in a wheelchair.

        He had even made sure people knew not to mention Hawking in his presence, under the false pretense that he vehemently disagreed with his theories, citing Susskind. The truth was from the moment Hermann developed his mobility issues he became terrified that one day he’d end up the same way. It all hit a little too close to home, and any mention of the fellow physicist brought all his fears bubbling up to the surface.

        “Herm?” Newt coaxed, trying to bring his friend back to reality once he noticed Hermann retreating into his dark place.

        Hermann made a strained resistant noise in response.

        “I mean... unless you want me to pick you up and carry you, it’s either that or you stay here.”

        “I’d rather crawl.” Hermann hissed stubbornly.

        “No you wouldn’t.” Newt rolled his eyes.

        “You’re too small to carry me.” Hermann persisted.

        “I’m not small!” Newt screeched, “I’m... I’m a really strong guy -- you see me lugging those huge tanks around.” He pouted. “Also you probably weigh like negative three pounds or somethin’.”

        “I’ve always been underweight.” Hermann lamented.

        “Hah, wish I could sympathize with you on that one.” Newt scoffed, thinking about his medication caused weight fluctuations.

         Hermann glanced around the area. “The hall _is_ relatively empty-- we’ve barely seen a soul so far.”

        “Right!” Newt began to stand up, “And no one really comes over to this corner of the ‘dome anyway,” he added persuasively.

        “Hmm...” Hermann pursed his lips, weighing his options.

        “No one’s gonna see us, man.” Newt cooed reassuringly.

        Hermann gazed up tentatively at the smaller man hovering above him, who smiled back warmly. He could tell Newt was worried, but putting on the bravest face he could find. A face he couldn’t in good conscience say no to.

        “Oh... _go on_ , let’s just get this over with.” Hermann grumbled. “We’re losing priceless minutes of the workday.”

        “You got it.” Newt leaned down and hooked an arm under Hermann’s, who then started to flail.

        “No! No, don’t pick me up!" he roared, “You daft little-- _get me the chair!_ ”

        “ _Ohhh,_ ” Newt chuckled bashfully, “Sorry man, I got a little ahead of myself.”

        “Yes I bet you’ve been dying to pick me up and carry me over the threshold.” Hermann growled.

         Newt laughed thunderously in surprise. “Over the--? Oh my god, Herm, that was actually _really funny_ ," he turned bright red and started letting out small gasps of nervous giggles, "No! No, I was gonna take you on my back, _oh my god_.”

        He was grinning sheepishly and squaring his shoulders, almost not able to even look at Hermann. Hermann stared back quizzically but smiled as well. He found Newton’s flustered hopping about actually quite endearing.

        “Go on, get the chair.” Hermann motioned towards the lab with his head, attempting to get the discomposed scientist back on track.

        “Uh um-- Yeah--" Newt coughed, trying to pull himself together, "If anyone sees us we’ll just say you twisted your ankle,” Newt shrugged, “‘Cause I’m a dick and left some Kaiju slime on the floor.”

        “Well it’s only a matter of time til _that_ happens.”

        “I might do my best to drive you nuts, but I’d die before I hurt you.” Newt admitted earnestly, almost as though he was talking to himself. Hermann’s mouth was agape with surprise, but before he could say anything Newt scurried off into the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies again, I didn't mean to take so long to update. Right after I posted that last chapter some bizarre events happened in my life that took all my focus away from everything else. It's passed now, (hopefully), and I learned a lot and I think became a stronger person because of it. Anyway, I promise it won't take so long next time, unless the universe throws another crazy scripted sitcom scenario my way.
> 
> Shatterdome Seattle is next month, so I will probably have a chapter up before then! I'll be attending so if anyone for some reason would want to meet me, there's your chance, haha.


	8. Chapter 8

         Every second that ticked past felt twice as long to the physicist. He knew as well as anyone that time was just an illusion, but damn it all, why must it pass so slowly? His gaze darted from one side of the hall to the other watchfully. He prayed to whichever deity wrote the mathematical codes he found such solace in that no one would suddenly turn the corner and stumble upon him. How would he justify being haphazardly sprawled out in the corridor without causing alarm?

         He already felt like 'that guy' even though he'd never publicly shown any weakness. The cane itself was enough, and he wasn't looking to change that. After 10 long years working for the PPDC, he was practiced at hiding things. His former penpal was the sole coworker who ever saw him in such a state, but it's nearly impossible to avoid when you spend almost every moment together. He and Newton had history, and though they were often not in each other's good graces, one thing that had survived the rift was their extraordinarily high level of comfort with one another.

         Hermann felt pain again after he absentmindedly flexed his leg. He couldn't hear anything but his labored breathing and throbbing pulse. The metal grate dug into his muscles and he couldn’t adjust himself to find relief. He dreaded the tender bruises they would most certainly leave on his easily marred skin. Hermann glared at his lower limbs in anger, watching his knee twitch and spasm, trying to will it into settling. It did not abide.

         “Hurry,” he whispered, though it had only been a minute and a half. “Please.”

         The deafening drumming in his ears ceased once he heard the squeaky wheels of his savior approaching. He whispered a word of thanks to whoever in the cosmos had been listening. Newt skidded to a halt in front of him. Hermann had never been so relieved to see the scruffy scientist in his life.

         “Your chariot, sir.” Newt quipped, standing proudly.

        _“Sod off.”_ The sentimental feeling was gone. As always, the moment was ruined by Newt's inability to take things seriously, and how Hermann was not able to take a joke.

         Newt helped Hermann into the chair and whisked him away as swiftly as possible. Hermann gripped tightly to the arm-rests. They were moving faster than he would have liked, maybe even a bit recklessly, but he had asked for haste on Newton’s part, so scolding seemed counter-intuitive.

         Newt vigilantly checked around every corner to make sure the coast was clear before continuing to roll his friend through the halls. They were making quite a racket, with the combination Newt’s thick soled boots pounding against the metal floor, and the sound of heavy wheels clanking over the holes in the grate. If anyone in the dorm rooms they were passing were still in bed they’d have quite a rude awakening.

         ---

         By the time they reentered the lab Newt was grinning from ear to ear, slightly out of breath.

         “I’m outta shape,” he confessed, putting a hand on his strained back, “But that was pretty fun, right?”

         “It wasn’t terrible.” Hermann affirmed, in his own stubborn way, but smiled as well.

         Newt laughed and patted Hermann on the shoulder. “OK, buddy... want me to wheel you to the couch?”

         “Yes, yes.” Hermann replied.

         He rolled Hermann to his familiar resting place. Hermann transitioned from chair to sofa easily, to Newt’s relief. His leg muscles may have been atrophied, but he seemed to have a good amount of upper body strength.

         As he watched, Newt found himself thinking about how Hermann truly needing him for once was kind of nice, if only because it was forcing them to be considerate towards each other. It gave Newt a purpose in life that wasn’t limited to being literally the only xenobiologist left on the payroll. And even if it was just out of necessity, Hermann was being more patient with him than usual. It made Newt feel... wanted.

         A gasp of pain snapped him back to reality.

        "D'you need--"

        "No, I've got it." Hermann replied through gritted teeth.

        He watched helplessly as his partner cringed and let out short agonized puffs of air while trying to straighten out his legs.

        Newt sat down in the now-vacant chair, his brow furrowed and hands clasped on his knees. He studied Hermann, who had lowered himself into a lying position and was staring at the ceiling avoidantly.

        Newt watched the rise and fall of his lab partner’s chest. It was tremulous and far from rhythmic.

        “It’s gonna be OK, yeah?” Newt assured.

        “Oh, you don’t know that.” Hermann said after a shaky breath.

        “Of course I do.” Newt insisted.

        “You don’t know anything.” Hermann said bitterly.

        “Excuse me?” Newt was taken aback by the sudden hostility.

        “You don’t know the frustration of literally doing nothing and then aching like you ran a triathlon.”

        “Uh, to be fair, you had been on your feet a lot this week.” Newt countered, remembering how amusing it was to see Hermann scrambling about the lab with such frenzy and ease. “You were racing up and down that ladder like a nut.”

        “I was chasing inspiration!” Hermann moaned, “And it metaphorically slipped through my fingers.”

        “Mmmhmm, well I also remember some _literal_ slipping happening too, so I hope we learned a lesson from that.”

        “I didn’t slip because I was working too fast, I slipped because...”

        “You worked too  _hard_.”

        “No such thing.” Hermann muttered combatively.

        “And we’ve been working nonstop and pulling all-nighters for how long? Like, months. Several.”

        Hermann sighed loudly. “I’m better than this.”

        “Hey, man.” Newt said softly, “It’s just catching up with you. You’re too stubborn to take a breather, so your body’s just forcing one on you.”

        “It’s like all my muscles are on low-battery mode.”

        “I guess that means it’s time for a recharge, yeah?”

        “Even my brain is like...” Hermann paused, trying to find a suitable term, “I can’t even think of words to use! That’s.. _ugh_.”

        “Mental exhaustion, dude.”

        Hermann ‘hmphed’ defiantly and then gave another hiss of pain.

        “OK, we’ve established that everything sucks. Now let’s do something about it.” Newt stood up, “You don’t have to do this alone, OK? I’m here.”

        Hermann eyed him with knit brows, and then looked away submissively. A wordless cue that he was willing to accept help, without having to swallow his pride and verbally ask for it.

        Newt found a spare heating-pad stored near the couch for his lab partner’s easy access. He shook it in the air, giving Hermann a questioning look, who in return nodded. Newt zapped it in the microwave, (with the sticker reading 'FOOD ONLY, SO HELP YOU GOD' in angry looking block letters), and brought it back to him.

        Hermann attempted to sit up to grab it gratefully, but as he extended his arm the one supporting his weight buckled under him. Hermann dropped back down with a hiss of vexation.

        “ _It’s giving out,_ ” he moaned.

        “Think of it this way; If you drive a car for a week straight and it runs out of gas, you don’t blame the car.” Newt scoffed, tucking the pad under Hermann’s right knee. “That would be stupid.”

        Hermann whimpered softly as the joint moved, and then bit his lip as if he was embarrassed by the sound. Newt pretended not to hear, noting the mortified look on Hermann’s face.

        “Do you want to use my heaty-thingy too?” Newt offered, referring to the rice-filled bag he used after long nights of sitting hunched over at his desk. “For the other one?”

        “Perhaps.” Hermann wheezed, “It’s just that it hurts  _all over_ , to the point where I’m not even sure what part of my body to use it on.”

        “I could help you move them around and stuff.”

        “It’s not that... well, I  _do_  have some of those sodium-acetate packs... stashed. One of my drawers, in my alcove. There should be a few.” Newt raced over to said area, “But they're the non-reusable kind, so it’s my stash for _emergencies_ , I don’t--”

        “I’d consider this an emergency.” Newt replied.

        “I’d prefer not to waste--”

        “You just get them from the infirmary, yeah?” Newt called back.

        “Y-Yes, but--”

        “Then we’ll just get more.”

        “Oh Newton, I don’t want them to...  _it’s embarrassing_.”

        “What is?” Newt inquired, rooting through desk drawers.

        “Going there and asking for things all the time. They probably see me more than  _anyone_  in the Shatterdome.”

        “I seriously doubt you’re the only one with a medical issue here.”

        “But mine’s the most obvious!” Hermann bellowed.

        “I’ll go get some and say they’re for me, then.” Newt shrugged, “Problem solved.”

        Hermann was readying a retort, but then realized this was a stupidly obvious solution, and wondered why he hadn’t come up with it on his own. This frustrated him even further. He dropped his head back completely, squeezing his eyes shut and letting out a loud angry noise.

        “ _Herm_ ,” Newt warned as he made his way over, “You’re stressing yourself out unnecessarily.”

        “You are  _not_  one to judge what stress of mine is or isn’t necessary, Newton.” Hermann growled. “You do not... you are not privy to every aspect of my life and what stressors I may or may not have to contend--”

        “Where do you want them?” Newt interrupted.

        Hermann’s eyes flew open, “Excuse me?”

        Newt was standing over him expectantly, with an arm full of plastic heating-packs and a travel cushion around his neck.

        “I found this too,” he said, trying to gesture towards the pillow, “Might help.”

        “I, um...”

         “Let’s go for broke and just make you a bed outta ‘em.” Newt proposed as he set the small pile in Hermann’s lap and activated a few bags, “They’re tiny anyway.”

         He helped Hermann sit up and placed two beneath his back and one against the neck pillow.

         Hermann carefully leaned back, “That’s... quite...” he trailed off as the warmth enveloped his body, relaxing his muscles.

         Newt gently lifted Hermann’s aching legs and placed some under them as well.

          “You didn’t sleep very well, you should nap.” Newt advised.

         “Hmm...” Hermann looked around hesitantly, not wanting to spend another day in the lab doing nothing.

         “I’ll put space sounds on over the speakers.”

         “Perhaps...” Just the notion of it made Hermann sleepy.

         “Why don’t we have any blankets in here, man?” Newt huffed.

         “We had one but you spilled toxic chemicals on it.” Hermann muttered.

         “I know.” Newt’s eyes lowered abashedly, remembering how Hermann scolded him for months about how he ruined their ‘one nice thing’.

         “My parka works just fine as a blanket.” Hermann quickly suggested, feeling guilty for bringing it up. He sometimes forgot how awful it was to have a single mistake hung over one’s head. “If we had _actual_ blankets here it’d just give us another reason to nap during work hours.”

         Newt nodded dejectedly as he removed the oversized coat from the back of one of Hermann’s chairs.

         "Newt?” Hermann called tenderly. Newt looked up, surprised by the informality and sweetness of it, without a hint of frustration or irony.

        _“Komme Sie hier.”_ Hermann beckoned. Newt walked towards him cautiously, clutching the heavy parka to his chest.

         There wasn’t a trace of the usual haughtiness in Hermann’s face nor in his voice, but there was also a frailty about him. It was the opposite of the fiery man Newt was used to, and far beyond the years of a 30-something. It reminded him of the aura his Opa had when he had resigned himself to death. He didn’t like it one bit.

         “Thank you for looking after me these past few days.” Hermann said as Newt draped the coat over him, “I ask so much of you, you  _ _must__ find it tiresome, and yet you seem unburdened.”

         Newt felt the back of his neck get hot. Taking care of his lab partner felt like a privilege, but admitting it felt overly sappy and... weird.

         “I... we’re a team... and if one of us is down, it’s like piloting a Jaeger solo..”

         “Yes, I suppose that’s true.” Hermann smiled weakly.

          _‘Don’t be a dick, Newt, just tell him.’_ A voice nagged at him.

         “If you need something, and I can help, it makes me feel... I mean, I do it... I--”

         “I know.” Hermann said, sparing Newt any embarrassing explanation.

         Newt sat down on the chair again, and looked down at his feet.

        “Do you tell her when things get like this?” Newt asked softly.

        “If she asks...” he answered, “And even then I downplay it.”

        Newt frowned and sighed loudly in disapproval.

        “Do you really think stressing over something half the world away is going to help either of us?” Hermann asked.

        “I guess that’s true.” Newt conceded, remembering back to their penpal days when he used to sometimes lie in bed at night, kept up by his worrying over Hermann.

        “Things come and go. Unless something life-altering happens, it’s not worth getting her upset over. Besides...” Hermann swallowed audibly, “She knows... I have you.”

        Newt’s ears perked up. “She does?”

        “I’m actually supposed to ask you for help.” Hermann muttered bashfully, “I just... don’t.”

        “That’s news to me.” Newt said, rolling closer with interest.

        “She-- well...” Hermann started, “ _This_  -- what we’ve been doing the past few nights -- is kind of a long time coming. In the sense that she thinks you take care of me on the regular.”

        “O-Oh...” Newt wasn’t sure how to react to this news.

        “It’s her idea, and it helps her sleep at night.” Hermann added. “Honestly she's been wanting this arrangement between you and I for a while now.”

        “Really?” Newt felt his mouth getting dry.

        “Yes, she keeps asking about dorm mates and I tell her they're much too small for two people.” Hermann sighed, “She said, 'Oh Newton, he could stay with you. He'd do it for you', and I'd say, 'No, no that's not true'-- but Newton you  _have_ ,” he finally looked at Newt with large awestruck eyes.

        Newt could feel his cheeks turning pink. "Does she know I'm..."

        "Hmm?"

        "Ace,” he said hoarsely, “D-does she know I'm ace."

        "Is that important that she knows?" Hermann cocked his head.

        Newt’s neck was starting to burn. "Well I don't want her to think--"

        "She  _knows_  you like men." Hermann interrupted.

        Newt’s stomach flipped. "Wait... so she thinks I'm gay but wants me to sleep with you?"

        “Thinks?” Hermann raised an eyebrow. “You  _are_  gay, right?”

        “I mean... barely,” he choked out.

        “You’re  _bi?_ ” Hermann asked in a dumbfounded tone.

        “Not that I’m aware of.”

        “But you’re attracted to men at least.”

        “Yes.”

        “Then yes she knows that.” Hermann said nonchalantly. “I don't think she expects either of us to suddenly go against our respective orientations.”

        Newt was now clutching the chair like he was about to be thrown from it. This information was all so unexpected, he couldn’t wrap his brain around it. That for who knows how long Hermann had been toying with the idea of sleeping with him in his bed. That Vanessa already thought this bizarre arrangement was a thing that happened, and actually suggested it herself?

         _Of course_. That was so like Hermann, Newt thought. So much pride. He had a misguided feeling of guilt if he involved other people in his personal struggles. He’d hide everything from everyone just to keep them from worrying. Maybe it was noble, or perhaps completely selfish. Newt knew it wasn't his place to judge, considering Hermann had so much to cope with. 

        "Well." Newt cleared his throat, "D'ya think she'd think I'm doing a good job. Looking after you, and all?"

        Hermann raised his brows. "I reckon she'd think you're brilliant."

        Newt smiled coyly. "Am I doing well by  _your_  standards?"

        "Far and beyond, Newton." Hermann shook his head in amazement. "Far and beyond. It's almost unlike you."

        " _Heyyyy_ ," Newt growled, "I'm a nice guy."

        "When you want to be, I suppose."

        Hermann's body twitched. Newt jumped and instinctively set a hand on his partner in a desperate attempt to settle him.

        “You OK?” Newt asked.

        “Yes. It was just a chill.”

        “A chill?” Newt scoffed at the man lying over heating-packs and covered in a large parka.

        “I have poor circulation." Hermann shrugged. "I'm always cold."

        "I know, s'just funny."

        Hermann adjusted his coat, trying to get more comfortable.

        "How's the pain now?"

        "Subsiding quite a bit, thank you."

        "No problem."

        “Before I...” Hermann wrinkled his nose, “...  _in the hall_. You said you couldn’t work.”

        “Not really. Not until they send all the forms.”

        “Well, then I suppose there’s really no point for you to waste your time here today.”

        Newt raised an eyebrow. “You never try to get me to skip out on work. Are you trying to get rid of me?”

        “No, no.” Hermann assured, “I just... with me and all, you’ve done so much more than is asked of you. You need to de-stress, or it’s going to take it’s toll on you. And you’ll become like me.”

        “Oh goodness me, doctor. I shudder at the thought.” Newt mimicked Hermann’s accent accurately, rather than mockingly.

        Hermann actually beamed and gave a small breathy laugh, which gave Newt butterflies. Newt looked away and pretended to stretch his neck so he could avoid Hermann’s gaze. Hermann’s sincere smile always did a number on him. It was so rare yet so bright, like a solar eclipse that he couldn’t stare at directly. He wondered if Hermann knew the sheer radiance and power of it.

        “You sure?” Newt’s voice cracked, as he tried to collect himself.

        “I’ll be fine, really.” Hermann exhaled, “I’m letting you off the hook today.”

        “Just for a few hours though.”

        “Yes, alright. But don’t rush for my sake. Take time for yourself.”

        Newt took a deep breath, finally bringing himself together. “OK. Well. Maybe I’ll catch the morning ferry. Run some errands in town.”

        Hermann gave an approving look. “Yes, get some fresh air. It’ll do you good.”

        "Oh, um." Newt got up to grab his bag. “Here.” Newt tossed him one of the bars he’d gotten from the vending machine, “Eat it soon, so you don’t get sick.”

        “I’ll nibble at it.” Hermann said, eyeing the packaging with an upturned nose.

        “I’ll pick up a light lunch for us.” Newt offered.

        Hermann’s look of distaste vanished from his face with the idea of  _outside food,_ and was replaced with the same wonderment of a child being promised a treat.

        Newt raised his eyebrows. “Yeah?”

        Hermann nodded, eyes transfixed.

        “The usual?”

        Hermann nodded faster. Newt smirked, encouraged by the reaction.

        “Alright then. Just give me a sec and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

        He went to his work area and booted up his laptop sitting on the desk. He ducked down underneath and fiddled with a the tangle of cords he pulled from an old mail basket. He finally found what he was looking for, and plugged it into another cable on lying on the floor.

        “What’re you doing?” Hermann called sleepily.

        “You’ll see.” Newt answered, scrolling through files. He tapped his lip with his finger thoughtfully, and then selected one.

        Slowly the soft ambient wisping and harmonic tones evocative of an otherworldly windstorm flooded the room.

        “Ah... _Jupiter_...” Hermann mused dreamily.

        Newt looked over at the man on the couch, whose eyelids were already starting to droop heavily. Newt smirked. He knew a lot of Hermann’s weaknesses, and for the first time he was actually able to exploit one for good rather than evil.

        “You nice and comfy now?” Newt asked, picking his leather jacket up off one of the pieces of machinery.

        Hermann made a noise of affirmation but did not open his eyes.

        “Alright, I’m heading out then.” Newt put his jacket on and swung his messenger bag over his shoulder.

        He backed away towards the doorway, keeping his eyes on Hermann.

        “I’ll be back. Please, get some sleep if you can.”

        Newt switched off the fluorescents the way he did every night, but instead of his lab partner slowly shambling ahead of him into the light, Newt was leaving him behind in the darkness. He studied the scene for a moment, holding his breath, waiting for a response. Hermann lay still, bathed in the spectral glow of the specimen tanks. There was only the hum of machinery and quiet song of Jupiter.

        “Sleep tight, buddy....  _love you_.” Newt whispered into the din of white noise, knowing Hermann wouldn’t hear. But as he turned to leave, he hoped in some telepathic way the sentiment would reach him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So again, I'll be at Shatterdome Seattle this weekend! If any of you will be there I'd love to say hi and thank you for your support in person. <3 
> 
> I'll try my best to have an update next month sometime. May is my birthday month so I dunno if I'm gonna be busy at all in my free time, but the chapter has been in the works for a while now and I'd like to finally finish it.
> 
> As always feedback is so appreciated. I'm basically writing to the void, so any response is like the greatest gift I can imagine. You don't know how much it means to me. Thank you guys.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to add a comment when I posted last night. OK, I kept my promise and updated in June! I got distracted by other writing projects and posted a few fics in between, but here's 6k for you. Only warnings for this chapter is some profanity but it's sporadic.

         For the past few years, 95% of daylight hours, also known as ‘normal human hours’, had been spent in a lab. Was this ghost town of a Shatterdome he now found himself in abnormal, or just a regular Saturday morning? He remembered Tokyo had always been busy, no matter what the day, but that was long before budget cuts had taken their toll.

         He chose to take a shortcut to the ferry terminal through the Jaeger bay, for kicks. The vast echoing chamber was oddly quiet today. No rush of J-Tech buzzing with activity, or pilots strutting around with their entourage. Only a few maintenance workers and the occasional cart hauling supplies.

         Ever since the moment he first laid eyes on a Jaeger in person, he marveled at their size. He mostly saw them through a screen, or from afar, but walking past them gave him a childlike sense of awe. How would his eight-year-old self have reacted, he wondered, to the knowledge that one day giant robots would be real and necessary.

         Each metal titan was impressive in its unique way, but he had a soft spot in his heart for Cherno Alpha. Maybe he was biased; the Kaidonovkys were so friendly. The first few times he encountered them their harsh tone and aggressive way of talking frightened him. This changed when he saw them address Hermann in the same fashion. Newt watched the programmer’s face light up, as if they were speaking sweetly. Apparently they’d always been chummy with their local K-Scientists.

         Over drinks Hermann had colourfully told him some grand tales about the battles he had witnessed in the Vladivostok control room. The two Russians waved their hands humbly, but at the same time made sure to correct Hermann whenever he underrepresented one of their achievements.

         Newt gazed at the towering skyscraper of a form, rattling off the names of all it’s conquests under his breath.

         “Raythe, Atticon, Tara--AHHHHH!” He jumped as something dropped and clanged loudly by his feet.

         “Sorry.” A small voice called back.

         He looked up in shock. Mako Mori, the J-Tech prodigy, sat above him on the scaffolding, tinkering with some sort of servo motor. Her hair was pulled back in a dirty kerchief and there was grease smeared across her nose.

         “M-Mori-san!” Newt squeaked, but then tried to regain his composure. “I, uh, didn’t see you there.”

         “You can just call me Mako, _doctor_.”

         “ _Sumimasen_. _Mako_ -san.”

         She rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to speak Japanese to me. I want to practice my English.”

         “A-Alright, alright.” Newt shifted nervously.

         Mako was _cool,_ in the kind of effortless way Newt wished he could be. She was similar to the comic book heroes he idolized in his preteens. The type of girl he pined for when he erroneously believed he was straight. She mostly thought of Newt as an annoying cousin, but would follow him with the eagerness of a puppy. Asking questions about his research each time another Kaiju was defeated. Newt tried to put the extra suave mask on when he talked to her, much to Mako (and Hermann's) annoyance. Keyword being ‘tried’.

         “You’re up early,” he observed, “I take it you weren’t with the rest of J-Tech last night?”

         “No, the Marshal doesn’t like me going out like that. But I don’t really _want_ to go out anyway,” she lowered her voice like she was about to reveal a dirty secret. “On Saturdays everyone sleeps in, so I have a chance to work in the quiet with no one around to bother me. Except for _you,_ I guess.” Mako smirked.

         Newt laughed sheepishly. Mako gave him a pointed look.

         He cleared his throat. “S-so what are you working on there?”

         “I’m just trying out some small scale tests for a modification.” She shrugged. “For the Lady.”

         “Oh yeah, you’ve been working hard on Danger lately, huh? She’s pretty cool.”

         “She’s beautiful.” Mako said wistfully.

         The dreamy look on Mako’s face made him smile. She almost appeared love-struck. It was heartening to know someone else had a special interest that consumed them, like he did. She seemed to realize she had retreated into her head as usual, and composed herself back into her dignified exterior.

         “Where is your partner?” she asked, looking around as if he might emerge from behind something.

         “My _partner?_ He’s not my-- _Oh_ you mean--” Newt felt himself getting flustered, “My-- _Hermann_ , oh...”

         Mako raised an eyebrow, not sure why Newt was verbally malfunctioning.

         “He’s sleeping.” Newt finally blurted out.

         “ _Sleeping?_ ” Mako’s eyes widened and she wrinkled her nose. “Is he OK?”

         Newt realized Hermann must have acquired a reputation around here. “Oh I mean, he’s-- he wore himself out. Too many nights without sleep.”

         “Ah, I’m glad it’s not something worse.” Mako relaxed. “We cannot lose someone as valuable as him. Not now.”

         “He’ll be fine after he gets enough rest.” Newt assured.

         “I believe in hard work and pushing yourself to the limit, but the body is like a machine and must be cared for accordingly.”

         “That’s exactly what I said!”

         She hummed in surprised approval. “You are wiser than I thought.”

         Newt got excited over winning Mako’s commendation. “I-I even compared us to Jaeger pilots-- cause like, we gotta work as a team, he and I.”

         Her attention appeared to be fading again. “That’s true.”

         Mako was highly regarded. She had friends everywhere she went in the Shatterdome, but she usually didn’t make small talk with anyone outside her core ‘family’, as she called them. For everyone else she had a limited window of social engagement. If the conversation was not about Jaegers or engineering her eyes would glaze over. She did not hide the fact that she had zero interest in whatever they were saying to her.

         “Alright well, uh... I’ll let you get back to it.” Newt said awkwardly, knowing all too well that in about 2 minutes he’d be talking to a brick wall. He wasn’t sure where he and Hermann stood with her, but she did happen to give them the time of day more than others.

         “ _Ja ne._ ” Mako replied, fiddling with the machine again.

         ---

         Newt had made good time. One of the ferries was pulling into the dock, most likely with rations. Victoria Harbor had a constant flow of boats moving to and from the mainland. It became a slow (but free) form of travel for Shatterdome staff.

         There weren’t too many employees waiting for this next one, save for a few local volunteers who came and went as they pleased. Seems Mako was right; people around here did sleep in on weekend mornings. Although, there was one familiar face smirking back at him.

         “Well, well. Long time no see.” Tendo strolled over. He was wearing a tweed jacket and carried a large drawstring bag with him.

         “Hey man. Takin’ the ferry?”

         "Ch’yeah. I'm bored outta my mind in that tin can." He rested against a large box beside Newt.

         “Don’t blame ya. Sometimes I get super claustrophobic in there.” Newt shuddered.

         “So you’re heading into town too? That’s unusual.”

         “Yeah, Hermann and I are out of a few things.” Newt told him. “And I figured I’d treat us to lunch since we haven’t been outta the lab in _forever._ ”

         “Tch, no shit. Still kinda sour about you blowing me off yesterday.”

         Newt looked down at his boots. “Oh man, hey, I’m sorry.”

         “I’m teasin’ ya.” He bumped into Newt playfully. “It’s actually admirable that you’d forego an invite like that. You’re a responsible guy, Newt, you work hard.”

         “More like ‘I don’t want to be wiped off the face of the planet’, but I’ll take ‘responsible’.”

         Tendo laughed, then fidgeted with the rosary around his wrist.

         “You have a good night?” Newt asked, changing the subject.

         “Eh.” Tendo shrugged one shoulder. “It’s probably for the best you didn’t come. Things got pretty sketch.”

         Newt was intrigued. “How so?”

         “Some skeevy dudes dressed like 80’s movie villains came in and started harassing some of the gals. Sasha punched a guy into a fish tank, so we’re probably not gonna be allowed back,” he said casually, as if he were describing a normal day at the office.

         “Holy shit, dude, you’re a liar.” Newt shook his head. Tendo sometimes told tall tales just to see how gullible people were. Though, it was usually to new recruits rather than actual friends.

         “Bro I shit you not. Ask the Ruskis.”

         “You’re for real?”

         “ _Hell yeah_ I’m for real.”

         Newt grinned and groaned. “ _Urrggh_ , I would have _paid_ to see that.”

         “I guess it was pretty awesome in hindsight. Me, I was kind of mortified by the whole thing. Had to help put the fish into shot glasses. It was a mess.”

         Newt laughed imagining the normally super chill Tendo on his hands and knees, frantically rescuing a goldfish.

         “Hermann woulda had a heart attack, I bet.” Tendo said.

         “No, dude, he would’ve been up there with Sasha telling them off.”

         “That’s true, that’s true.” Tendo shook his finger agreeingly. “He’s a belligerent chap. Always looking for a fight.”

         Newt chuckled softly. The two boarded the boat.

         “Speakin’ of which... Herms ain’t comin’?” Tendo asked.

         “Nah.” Newt shook his head quickly.

         Tendo hummed thoughtfully and nodded.

         “Are you guys... OK?”

         “Yeah, why?” Newt got anxious.

         “Nothing I just. Haven’t seen you two around. Not in the caf or the hall-- I mean I saw _you_ last night but I haven’t seen Herr Gottlieb in forever.”

         “Yeah, yeah, well... _work_.” Newt tried to seem nonchalant.

         “You two aren’t... having one of your little tiffs again or something?”

         “Nah, nah, we’re cool.”

         ---

         The two headed to the front of the boat. The sky was overcast and a bit foggy, completely obscuring their destination. Newt pulled his leather jacket tighter as he took a deep breath of the cool breeze. It smelled of rust and ocean spray, filling his lungs with new life. It’d been quite a while since he breathed something other than the stagnant chemical filled air of the lab. It invigorated him.

         He took off his thick-rimmed glasses and cleaned the mist of the lenses with a handkerchief.

         “Wow. You look different without your specs.” Tendo commented.

         Newt squinted. “Good different or bad?”

         “I dunno, just different. I don’t think I’ve seen you without them, period.”

         “That’s cause I’m blind as a bat without ‘em.”

         “Really now? Is that why your voice is like that? Echolocation?”

         “Shut up.” Newt retorted, quickly putting his glasses back on.

         “But really, they suit you.” Tendo said. “They frame you nicely. Brings out your eyes.”

         “Tendo Choi, are you hitting on me?” Newt accused with feigned shock.

         “Now Newton, I’m a married man.” Tendo replied in the same fashion.

         “Uh yeah, but that doesn’t stop you two from being weirdos.”

         “It’s not weird, it’s modern, get with the program.”

         “Uh-huh.” Newt smirked.

         “Y’know, it’s funny. Al and I agreed before we got hitched that monogamy wasn’t our thing, but we’ve been pretty damn old fashioned about things this whole time.”

         “Is that... bad?” Newt asked.

         “I dunno. More like... I used to feel so like... chained in my previous relationships. I was always thinking about like... is this the right person for me? Am I missing something? Is there someone better for me? But now that I’m off a leash I have no desire to stray.”

         “So then... Good?”

         “Yeah. I’m sure it’s different for every couple, but this seems to work for us. Not all relationships fit in the same tidy little box. You gotta just... find what works for the both of you, and not let anyone else’s opinion get to you.”

         Usually Newt didn’t like talking about relationships. He had no experience with anything romantic, and he had few friends as it was. But Tendo and Alison were different. They _were_ his friends, and he’d become a bit invested in their happiness.

         “Speaking of; the last time I saw Hermano, like, _out-_ out, was... when me and Ali-cat had dinner with him and Vanessa. And I’m pretty sure that’s before she was even with child.”

         “You guys had dinner with _Vanessa?_ ” Newt gaped, as though Tendo had seen a mythical creature.

         “Yep. We did like a double date thing, a few times actually. Marrieds style.”

         “Huh.” Newt raised his brows. “So you know her better than me.”

         “I do?”

         “Yeah I’ve only met her like... once,” he admitted.

         Tendo’s jaw dropped. “Are you _shittin’_ me?”

         “No-- well OK. I’ve seen her like... a handful of times, and she’ll smile and wave, but we’ve never had like... a _conversation.”_ Newt shrugged. “Except that one time when she came to surprise Hermann for his birthday and he wasn’t in the lab.”

         Tendo was bracing himself against the railing. “That’s _so weird_. I thought since you and Herms are... _the way you are_... you’d know her better.”

         “I dunno dude, every time she visits he disappears. Has her wait at a second location. Or if she _does_ show up at the ‘dome he rushes them off before we can even say anything more than hi. I feel like... he doesn’t want me to know her,” he confessed, while playing with his jacket zipper awkwardly.

         “Hmm.” Tendo stared at the waves, brows knit with befuddlement.

         “She seems nice though...” Newt said with a small voice.

         “She is. She’s really cool, man.” Tendo reassured. “She’s kind of a weirdo too, I think you’d get along. Or... maybe...”

         “Hmm?” Newt’s interest was piqued.

         Tendo wrinkled his nose as if he wasn’t sure whether to continue.

         “Maybe _what_ , dude? Don’t leave me hanging here.”

         “They do have similar life experiences, but she’s totally opposite of him, in a lot of ways. Maybe he’s, like, afraid you two will get too chummy or you will feed off of each other’s craziness and embarrass him.”

         “Is she really that weird?”

         “She’s an open book and she’s fascinated by everything. Like, I dunno if that’s a merit or a flaw. And she’s very... uh... hmm...” Tendo trailed off again. “What’s a good word... I wanna sayyy... _progressive?”_

         “What do you mean?”

         “She’ll say stuff and you can see the panic in his eyes and he’ll try to change the subject.”

         Newt gave a short laugh.

         “OK.” Tendo looked around, “Don’t tell him I said this-- and I know _she_ wouldn’t mind if I told you, cause she’d totally tell you if she had the chance-- but we may have had one too many last time we had our double date, and we got on the subject of how relationships have changed over the years, and of course it immediately went to open relationships and swingers and shit, and she got reallllly into it.”

         “Really?” Newt had always imagined Vanessa as a more pleasant Hermann clone but this was reshaping his perception.

         “ _Oh yeah_ , and you could see Hermann getting more and more flustered with every word that came out of her mouth-- oh she can talk about the most scandalous things and it sounds so proper and charming in her accent--” He laughed. “But he actually _excused_ both her and himself and they had a little chat by the bathrooms, and when they came back Vanessa -- still smiling-- wanted to talk about the more family friendly topic of kids instead.”

         “Huh...”

         “So what I’m trying to get at, if you haven’t noticed, is maybe Vanessa is a little... more unbuttoned about certain things...? And he’s trying to spare all three of you from any discomfort.”

         “In what way?” Newt inquired, though he already suspected what the answer might be.

         “OK... you’ve... come up in conversation. Nothing bad, don’t worry,” He noticed the look on Newt’s face, “We’re not talking shit. But... she might ask a lotta questions due to that curiosity of hers. Might get a little too personal. Maybe rib ya a bit, to see your reaction in regards to... concepts that aren’t so _ace_ , if you catch my drift.”

         “O-Oh... I see...” Newt scratched his head nervously. If someone was honestly curious of what asexuality meant to him, he wasn’t afraid to answer. But when things started to get a little too far into more private matters, he got uncomfortable. Fast.

         “ _And_ she might, eh... crack a joke about you and _him_. Something _suggestive_ , y’know?" Tendo raised his eyebrows. “She _says stuff_ , man, and honest to God I cannot tell if she’s kidding sometimes. I mean, she’s a hoot, I love her, but if you think _I’m_ bad... heh.”

         Newt felt a little dazed. “You are describing, like, a _completely_ different person than I ever thought.”

         “Hey, ground rules in place--- and maybe _some place dry_ ,” Tendo added, “I think you two would hit it off. But honestly, I don’t think Herms is keeping you apart for any unsavory reasons.”

         “So... you approve then?” Newt asked, insides wiggling anxiously. “Of him and her?”

         “Yeah, man. Don’t let anything I said steer you wrong. She’s one the the kindest most loving people I’ve met. Nosy, maybe, but accepting.” Tendo patted Newt’s shoulder. “So don’t worry, your Herms is in good hands.”

         Newt exhaled a breath he had been holding, and smiled. The mystery of Vanessa had always been a source of unease for him. It was unsettling to not know anything about the wife of the most important person in his life. Other than the scraps of information he had collected when Hermann dropped small hints about her, Newt only knew the mere basics. Tendo’s honest review of the woman alleviated the weight that had been on his chest once he had first heard her name. She sounded like a normal human being.

         “I’m sorry, Newt, I literally had no idea you were so... in the dark. Or else I woulda told ya something sooner.”

         “It’s alright.” Newt waved his hand. “But seriously, it’s a huge relief just knowing _you_ like her.”

         “Man, she talks about you like you guys are old pals, that mighta’ been what threw me off.”

         Newt felt kind of tingly inside. He was used to feeling left out or unwanted, but unbeknownst to him a woman he had hardly even spoken to had held him in high esteem. And her favor was important.

         --

         Their chatter became more relaxed. They complained about budget cuts. Tendo summarized a Chinese soap opera he and LOCCENT were hate-watching. Newt told him about the new specimens he was awaiting. It was nice to just... talk to someone. Before the ‘incident’, he and Hermann hadn’t done much talking. They mainly worked in silence, in fear that any verbal exchange would turn into an argument and result in a hostile work environment, as it had many times before.

         Before he knew it, they had arrived at the dock. At first Newt was unwilling to leave small-talk with his pal behind, as it’d become a rare luxury these days. Then the image of Hermann, in the eerie alien glow, suddenly burned into Newt’s eyelids, as if he were perceiving him at that very moment.

         Small pleasantries were trivial. Newt was on a mission.

         “I need’ta stop off at the laundromat.” Tendo jostled the pack swung over his shoulder. “I’d wait for my block’s laundry day, but my clothes from last night reek of booze and fish-tank.”

         Newt chuckled. “Yeah, I need to do some things-- let’s meet up at the cafe?”

         “ _Huítóu jiàn._ ” Tendo winked and sauntered off.

         ---

         Though this bayside market had been a small community staple for a good twenty years, it grew exponentially once the Shatterdome was built. Not only did the PPDC keep them safe, they revitalized the economy as well. Hong Kong was not only able to rebuild the parts of their city ravaged by Kaiju, but also thrive.

         Newt made his way down the row of bustling waterfront shops. Some of the store keepers were older, and didn’t speak much English, but Newt had learned how to communicate with broken Chinese and hand gestures. If he was lucky, there might be a teenager hanging around who helped interprate.

         He was gathering his usual “atonement bundle”: Tins of Chamomile and English Breakfast tea. Freshly baked Earl Grey shortbread cookies. Lemongrass hard candy. Some of Hermann’s favorite incense. After their years together he’d learned his lab partner’s creature comforts well.

         This time there would be no heartfelt apology letter, (where the sentiment was somewhat muddled by the fact that it was written on kitschy “Hello Kaiju” stationary), because for once it wasn’t a peace offering. Not a gift he handed over, shamefaced, after a chemical spill or storing tissue samples in the food fridge. No, this was an expression of gratitude and love. A “thank you for putting up with me and letting me in”. -- “In” referring to both the emotional and physical sense.

         Hermann was obviously disabled to the passing world, but presumably no one ever saw him in as vulnerable a state as Newton did in just the past few days. Newt knew how embarrassing it was when he succumbed to his own ailments, of the mental kind. He sympathized deeply.

         And Hermann didn’t even like people sitting too close to him in the mess hall, so to allow Newton into such an intimate space as his bed was... an honor.

         One last thing was in order before lunch. Something that he’d never bought before. He didn’t know where or when the idea popped into his head. It was yet another addition to the long list of his spontaneous decisions.

         This... seemed to be the place. He could sort of make out the Chinese characters on the door with his knowledge of Japanese Kanji. He stepped into the cramped, narrow store. There were wooden shelves that reached the ceiling, and a ladder that rolled along them.

         A hanging chime clanged behind him as the door closed.

         An old woman at the jar covered counter looked up briefly, “Ah, PPDC?”

         “Yeah.” Newt replied. She nodded.

         “ _Meifen_!” she called behind her, and then looked back at Newt. “My daughter help.”

         A woman in her late-twenties appeared from behind a cabinet. “You need English?” she queried as she approached him.

         “Yeah, sorry.” Newt cringed, “I’m so used to moving around I never took the time to learn your language.”

         “It’s not a problem.” She smiled as she swept her braid over her shoulder. “I’m fluent in yours.”

         “Y’know, I’ve been meeting a lot of young women who speak English around here lately.”

         “Well, most of us who don’t work for your people stay and run the stores while the rest of the men build the walls,” she said, straightening her apron. “They’ve been needing more and more workers.”

         “Yeah... Kaiju walls, huh?” Newt griped cynically. “That’s a-- heh. Good luck with that.”

         “They’ll hold, right?” Her voice lowered.

         He looked up. “Oh, well I mean, e-even if they didn’t-- it’d buy way more than enough time for the Jaeger pilots.”

         Meifen’s thick eyebrows raised with unease.

         “I mean, _walls_ , _no walls_ \-- you’ve got a freakin’ Shatterdome in your backyard.” He laughed awkwardly.

         “Yeah...” Her face softened. “Yeah, you’re right.”

         It dawned on him how insensitive he must have sounded. _“I’m sorry,_ I didn’t mean to--”

         “No, no,” She shook her head. “I understand your point. The Jaegers make me feel safer than a wall ever could.”

         He grimaced and shifted uneasily. He’d spare her the knowledge that they only had a few months left of funding.

         “So what is it I can help you with, sir?” She was back to her bubbly exterior.

         “Oh right, uh... you carry like, massage oil?”

         “Of course. This way.” She lead him over to a shelf holding bottles of various sizes with Chinese labels.

         “Do you have a preference?” she asked, resting her back on the ladder.

         “Well it’s not for me. It’s more of a gift.”

         She smiled slyly. “For a special someone?”

         Newt laughed sheepishly, “Ah- I um-- I g-guess you could say that.”

         “What kind of properties are you looking for? Warming? Stimulating? Something with an _intoxicating scent,_ maybe?”

         “Oh-- I mean, it’s nothing like that. S-Something that’s really good for muscles, maybe?”

         She stood on her tip toes and grabbed one. “I have some things but the scent isn’t very romantic.” She offered him a whiff of the bottle, “Not that it doesn’t smell nice.”

         It was earthy, with hints of cinnamon and peppermint that warmed his lungs.

         “It has _qiang huo, gu sui bu, xue jie_ \--”

         “I literally have no idea what any of that is.” Newt admitted.

         Meifen giggled. “Trust me, it’s good for pain and inflammation.”

         “That sounds perfect.”

         “Great!” She grinned. “Will that be all?”

         “Yeah, thanks a lot.”

         He followed her back to the counter, where the old woman once was.

         “Well your girlfriend-- or _boyfriend_ \-- is going to love this, I think,” she said happily, as she rung him up.

         Newt felt himself turning red again. “He’s not-- we’re not _like that_. He’s a co-worker. A good friend.”

         “You’re going to give your _friend_ a deep massage?” She eyed him skeptically, “With oils and everything?”

         “I-If he is OK with it.” Newt scratched his neck, embarrassed. “He has a condition-- he’s been in a lot of pain, so I just thought...”

         She smiled wide. “That is one of the sweetest things I have heard in a long time.”

         “Ah, _well_...” Newt’s jacket was making him feel _awfully_ hot.

         “You know what...?” She looked around, and then reached into a jar. “You give him these too.” She set a leaf-wrapped package into the bag. “They’re for the bath. If his muscles are giving him that much trouble this should really help.”

         “You don’t have to--”

         “No, I insist. We grow all these in our garden, it’s really no loss.” She batted her hand. “And anyway, men don’t usually do those kinds of things for each other. Hearing your story made me happy, and there’s not been much to smile about these days.”

         Newt smiled gratefully. “Thank you so much. I-I promise-- M-Mei...?”

         “Mei _fen_ ,” she replied.

         “ _Meifen_ ,” he repeated. “I promise I’ll be back.”

         “And you tell me how it went?”

         “Totally.”

         “I’ll look forward to it.”

         Newt chuckled and turned around quickly. He hoped she couldn’t tell he was burning up under his jacket, and that his face didn't resemble a tomato. Why was he getting so flustered over this? She didn’t even know him, or Hermann, for that matter.

         “ _Báibái!_ ” She called after him. He bit his lip and waved mutely.

         As he left the shop the sudden burst of ocean wind felt heavenly against his hot forehead. As he put his new gifts into his bag, his pocket buzzed. A message from Tendo.

          _[Done. HMU]_

          _[omw]_ He texted back.

         ---

         “Awww yiss.” Tendo rubbed his hands together eagerly. “Best bao in Hong Kong.”

         “Ugh.” Newt moaned in anticipation. “It’s been so long.”

         Newt and Hermann rarely got out of the lab these days. The Shatterdome’s food was... decent, but eating the same rotating meals for months and months with no variety felt like punishment. Soggy spaghetti and blue jello is only palatable the first 63 times.

         “Even in the joint we got like delivery pizza _sometimes._ ” Tendo once remarked.

         “You were in prison?” Hermann had gasped.

         “Was I?” Tendo winked back. Tendo was an enigma and no one knew which of his elaborate back-stories were the truth.

         Hermann and Newt often didn’t rush to the mess hall like most of the workers, battling for who would get the choice picks of juices or jello flavors. They were often left with whatever wasn’t picked over once they did arrive.

         On occasion Tendo would stop by to take their orders when he was going out. He knew that they'd become shut-ins now that there was no one left to relieve them of their never-ending shifts.

         Tendo nudged Newt. “Order up, brother.”

         “Four--” Newt’s stomach growled. “No, _five_ soy meat buns, three veggie buns--”

         Tendo began relaying the order in Chinese.

         “--- large peach tea, annnnd large jasmine. Yeah, both bubbles, yeah.”

         “ _Xièxiè._ ” Tendo punctuated.

         “What’d you get?” Newt asked him, as he counted his money.

         “Chai with coffee jellies.”

         “Chai? Tendo chai?”

         “Buzz off.” Tendo snorted and bumped into him, harder this time.

         Newt felt himself beaming. Being outside in the midst of civilization was revitalizing. At least for a few hours he wouldn’t be weighed down by the preservation of the species. The locals around him seemed chipper. They had light in their eyes, unlike the thousand-mile stares he saw in the break rooms, increasing at an alarming rate. Ignorance was apparently bliss. It felt good. It even _smelled_ good.

         He’d have to take Hermann out one of these days. When he was, y’know, mobile. Newt wondered if their environment had something to do with his sudden turn. That much mental stress couldn’t possibly go without consequence on his body. Hermann deserved to experience an outing like this. He'd carry the mathematician on his back if he had to.

         “Mr. Newt?” A timid voice called.

         Newt spun around to meet the wavering gaze of one of the cafe owner’s daughters. Her bangs were slightly in her face, despite having a bandana pulling back her hair.

         “Oh, thanks, uh... _Lìxúe?_ ”

         Lìxúe pushed the stray fringe out of her dark freckled face but looked away. She nodded quickly, and held the bag out far in front of her like it was something dangerous.

         Newt took it carefully. He tried to remember the proper response. _“M goi?”_

         She briefly looked at him and flashed a small smile with her slightly crooked teeth, and then rushed back to her station.

         “I... guess?” Newt said to himself as he turned back to Tendo.

         Tendo grinned mischievously.

         “Is my Chinese that bad?” Newt asked.

         “Iss’not _that_.”

         “Then what are you smiling about?”

         “That girl is _dizzy_ for you.”

         “Is she?” Newt glanced quizzically at her. She was facing him, but seemed to be busy cleaning the counter.

         “She stares at you when you aren’t looking and then she can’t look at you when you are.”

         “She’s just shy--”

         “She is _not_.” Tendo snorted. “She’s the chattiest little canary when you’re not here.”

         “Oh.” Newt felt the back of his neck heat up, yet again. She wasn’t his preferred gender, but he wasn’t accustomed to that kind of attention from anyone either.

         “Ehhh?” Tendo elbowed him.

         “Dude, now I’m gonna be all awkward when I come here,” he hissed back, grumpily.

         “You think she’s cute too?” Tendo beamed.

         “Not like _that_ , ugh, _dude_ , she’s like half my age.” Newt mumbled exasperatedly, “Also you know I don’t like girls--”

         “You didn’t know you liked bao until you tried it.”

         “That’s different--”

         “Is it? I didn’t know I liked guys until I tried one.” Tendo gave a wily look.

         “You’re not suggesting I should sleep with someone?” Newt turned up his nose, “That’s gross. _You’re_ gross.”

         Tendo rolled his eyes. “I _know_ you’re not gonna fool around with _her_ \-- or anyone. That’s not what I meant. I respect _that_ orientation.”

         “... Thanks bro.” Newt wasn’t used to his asexuality being understood by another. The sentiment was kind of touching.

         “Chill out.” Tendo clapped him on the back. “I just meant maybe if you shared a malt with a gal you might feel a little dizzy too.”

         “ _A malt?_ Oh my god, where did you come from?”

         “Where did _you_ come from? Pleasentville, right, that’s why you’re-- I’m _kidding_ , don’t look at me like that.”

         “I will punch you dude.” Newt laughed.

         “Your funeral, pal.” Tendo shrugged. “While you were getting stuffed in lockers for being a nerd, I was running with some hardcore gangs.”

         “So you claim.” Newt scoffed.

         “C’mon brother, let’s bug outta here.”

         ---

         As they stepped off the boat, Tendo was gossiping about co-workers, though was falling on deaf ears. Newt was walking faster than usual, anxious to return to his lab partner, but Tendo was keeping up with ease.

         “You should ask that new J-Tech guy out. He’s too newb to know you’re a total spazz. Whasshisname... it’s from a movie-- Shotaro! Like from Akira!” Tendo laughed, “You like us Asian guys right?”

         Newt made a noncommittal noise. Tendo often tried to play matchmaker with the new academy graduates. It was his favorite distraction from stress, and he was shockingly good at it. In the old days Newt would have probably jumped on it, if only for the sake of having someone new and cute to look at.

         “You’ve seen him right? He’s gorgeous. I was talking to Genova, and she asked him out and he said no, women are totally not his cup of tea. He seems timid and repressed-- perfect for you right?”

         “Yeah that’s not my jam, Tendo.” Newt stopped.

         Tendo almost tripped as he skidded to a halt. “Sorry, I was just trying to help my brother out.”

         “No I... that came off wrong.” New sighed, “I don’t need to date anyone right now-- I don’t know _how_ to date, for one. I’ve got other priorities. Things that are really important,” Newt’s thoughts drifted to Hermann lying on the couch, “Like, I’m glad that some of you guys found your spouses during wartime and god, it sounds awesome to have support from a significant other, but I got a job to do. And trying to find someone right now? In the middle of this? It’s just not gonna happen.”

         “I gotcha.” Tendo nodded yieldingly. “But... besides all that; Are you OK, man? You seem like really distracted lately. Stressed even.”

         “Yeah, I just got a lot on my plate. I gotta get back to work, and... stuff.”

         “You having another one of your...” Tendo made a motion with his hands like they were scales, referring to Newt’s manic swings.

         “Nah, I’m actually... I’m in a good place right now.”

         “Really.” Tendo raised an eyebrow, “In these days we’re livin’ in. You’re probably the only one.”

         “It’s complicated.” Newt shrugged weakly, eyeing the elevator at the end of the corridor.

         “But seriously, how’s Hermano?" Tendo lowered his voice. “He’s so ‘fresh air, fresh mind’, but he didn’t come with. He OK?”

         Newt didn’t say anything.

         “I’m asking because you seem really antsy to get back to the lab, rather than your usual lollygagin’ around.”

         Newt took a deep breath. “You gotta promise you won’t say anything.”

         “Hey, I may be kind of a newsmonger, but I’d never blab about Herm’s health.”

         “You know how stubborn he is.” Newt’s voice lowered too. “He’s pushing himself too hard and I’m worried he’s gonna put himself in a hospital or something. Worst case scenario, that is.”

         “Sounds about right.”

         “Yeah.” Newt kicked his foot, “I just don’t want him to push himself into something he can’t recover from. Cause...” He felt his eyes start to water, “I dunno, I can’t like... do all this alone, y’know?”

         “I mean, I’m your friend, Newt, but you guys... got something. I dunno what it is. It’s kinda twisted and maybe a little unhealthy, and I don’t understand how you can be laughing one minute and in a fist fight the next, but you two... _work_ somehow.”

         Newt choked out a small creaking laugh, not realizing so much emotion was going to come out with it.

         “Hey,” Tendo leaned in closer, “You gonna be OK little buddy? Should I talk to him?”

         “No, no, cause then he’ll know I told you and he’ll get mad-- I shouldn’t have told you.”

         “Hey man, worrying that he’s gonna work himself to an early grave is different than you telling me personal details about his health issues.”

         “I guess.” Newt sniffed. “But... No, I think he’s getting it. I hope.”

         “Alright.” He gently squeezed Newt on the shoulder, “Well lemme know if there’s anything I can do for you kids, mmkay?”

         “I will.”

         “I won’t hold you up any longer. Go,” He made a shoo-ing gesture, “Go to your man, bring him his supper.”

         “You always make it weird.” Newt moaned.

         “Skedaddle!” Tendo shouted.

         And he did.

         Tendo's 1950’s jokes must have rubbed off on him, cause once Newt reached the doorway of the lab he couldn’t help but sing-song “Honey, I'm home.” as he finally stepped into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I don't know when next chapter will be. Have a small vacation coming up, plus quite a few art/cosplay projects and some other fics I've been working on. I'll be contributing to the Pacific Arcana tarot deck, look forward to it! Thanks again for all your encouragement and support.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentines day and holy crap I am SO SORRY everyone. Life and health plus a bad writers block threw a wrench in my productivity. I will try to be better.

         The long serenade of Jupiter had faded away. Hermann’s eyes opened, already adjusted to the darkness. This was not his room. His foggy mind sluggishly pieced his memories together. _Oh, right._

         Occasional naps were taken on this couch, but he’d never woken in an unlit vacant lab before. It was abnormally still and silent; No wonder he didn’t recognize it.

         All he heard was the slight hum from the refrigerators, shudder of the warping metal air ducts, and his own breathing. He let out a long sigh and stared up at the tank-lights. They danced on the rusting ceiling, like some kind of aurora. It hypnotized him and made his eyes heavy.

         Commonly in these moments where Newton was absent Hermann took it as an opportunity to get work done undisturbed, head clearer in the peace and quiet. Maybe he’d even hum songs aloud to himself without fear of judgement or snide comment. Oh the things he’d do if his blasted body hadn’t turned on him so suddenly.

         Unfamiliar situations in familiar spaces. That’s what this whole ordeal had become.  There was a time when his dorm had been his one haven away from Newton.

         But not anymore.

         He calculated he must’ve been asleep for at least an hour, since he was almost certain that was the length of the audio file. Newt was not back yet. Perhaps he’d sleep a bit more. He felt warm and safe, and the last thing he wanted to do now was move.

         ---

         “You awake?” Newt whispered cautiously.

         Hermann grunted in response. “I am _now_.”

         “I’m sorry.” Newt winced, starting to internally scold himself.

         “No it’s fine.” Hermann said while stretching.

         “Did you get any sleep?” Newt asked, setting his bags on the floor.

         “I dozed lightly.”

         “Is that good?”

         “It was absolutely divine, actually.” Hermann answered. “I feel... refreshed.”

         “Yeah?” Newt smiled.

         “Yes. The heating packs have since cooled, but for a while there it was as though I were enveloped in a warm cloud. Like a very satisfying embrace.”

         Newt chuckled softly at Hermann’s overly poetic descriptors. “How’s the pain?”

         “Ignorable.” Hermann coolly replied.

         Newt frowned.

         “I know that doesn’t sound like much,” Hermann added quickly, “But trust me, Newton, from where I was a few hours ago, it’s remarkable.”

         “You want some help up?” Newt offered.

         Hermann nodded, and Newt grabbed his hand, carefully assisting him into an upright position.

         Newt sat beside him on the couch as Hermann resumed stretching.

         “You hungry yet?” Newt inquired.

         “Famished.” Hermann replied, in a tone like he had just realized.

         “Check it outtt.” Newt sang as he opened the bag of goodies. “Still warm, still cool.”

         “You are a saint.” Hermann breathed, gladly accepting the gifts. Newt bit his lips bashfully. He shook up his own drink, making it rattle loudly, in an attempt to divert the attention from his face.

         Hermann took a large bite with the ravenousness of a starved child and made a satisfied noise.

         “Hey man, don’t _inhale_ it.” Newt chuckled.

         “Thank you.” Hermann said with a mouthful of bun, which was surprisingly undignified for him. “Thank you so much.”

         “It’s nothing.” Newt shrugged, taking a bite himself. “Call me selfish. I was looking for any excuse to eat out, so thanks.”

         Hermann laughed, covering his mouth so he wouldn’t spit out any food.

         “So tell me; what’s it like out there?” Hermann inquired after swallowing. “In the outside world?”

         “Beautiful.” Newt sighed, recalling the greenery and open sky.

         “So it still exists then?”

         “Yeah, you’d be surprised. The people out there... they’re happy.”

         “Happy?” Hermann balked.

         “Yeah.”

         “Never heard of it.”

         Newt snorted. “I mean, I guess it’s not so hard to be when you’re not _in_ on everything that’s going on.”

         “That’s why I don’t tell Nessa a bloody thing about the war.”

         “Yeah, I don’t tell my dad shit either.”

         Hermann grimaced. “Is it _bad_ of us?”

         “Nah.” Newt answered between bites. “We’re gonna win, so... let them sleep easy at night.”

         Hermann made a hum of agreement.

         “I envy them,” he added quietly. “Out living in the world while we’re stuck in here having to save it.”

         “As soon as you kick this, we are going out.” Newt proclaimed with enthusiasm. “You and me, man. Remember life, Herm? Remember when we used to have fun?”

         “Last time we ‘had fun’ I ended up in _mortal peril..._ ” he grumbled.

         “Yeah... well I mean, you can pick what we do.” Newt replied shamefaced. “We can just get coffee and see the sky for once. Just... talk.”

         Hermann nodded, and then sighed. “Do you... ever wish we could go back to the way things were?”

         “Like... before we joined the PPDC? Or before the Kaiju--”

         “N-No, I was referring to the time before we met in person...”

         Newt gaped. “Oh, you’re talking about _us_.”

         “Yes.”

         “Well... _yeah_... I miss that. I miss... us.”

         "I don't think we were ever meant to be coworkers.” Hermann lamented.

         “Yeah, but... if we weren’t forced together like this, who knows if we’d ever had spoken to each other again.” Newt shrugged halfheartedly. He didn’t want to think of the alternative.

         “Still, I _know_ you know as well as I do that things aren’t anything like they once were.”

         “It’s not _all_ different. I mean, even when we’re on bad terms you still talk me down when I have an anxiety attack or go into overload.”

         “Well of course. I can’t have a nervous wreck around me at all times.” Hermann replied dryly. “That would be inconducive to my productivity.”

         “ _Wowwww.”_ Newt feigned offense, “OK, if that’s how it is -- let me take this back.” He grabbed at Hermann’s lunch.

         “No, no! It was a joke.” Hermann resisted, holding it out of Newt’s short reach.

         “How can I believe you?” Newt teased. “You’re just saying that ‘cause you don't want me to take your food away.”

         “Despite everything, the part of me that cares about you never died, it just got buried.”

         “Oh really?” Newt cooed.

         Hermann went rigid and turned away.

         “Aww, so you do still love me after all these years?” Newt continued.

         “I don’t _love_ you! I... I mean... not like -- as in -- I don’t mean it like...” Hermann fumbled with his words which just flustered him further. “Y-you’re trying to... _this is entrapment!_ ” he snapped.

         Newt snickered and fell back against the couch. “Alright man, I yield, I yield.”

         Hermann grumbled something while chewing.

         “But it’s your damn fault for alway getting yourself so worked up over everything.” Newt continued.

         “Oh take some responsibility, Newton.” Hermann jabbed. “You’re a little gnat who enjoys biting at people until they squirm.”

         “OK, _maybe_ ," he conceded unexpectedly, causing Hermann to also laugh. “Dude, this is the most smiling I’ve seen you do in a century.” Newt noted.

         “It’s a special occasion; I’m eating something that didn’t come from a factory package.”

         “Well hey, man, then cheers.” Newt said, holding up his drink.

         “Cheers, to... forgetting for a brief moment that the world is ending.” Hermann held his up in response.

         “Wow, way to make it dark.” Newt quipped.

         Hermann shrugged, taking a drink.

         “Man, what’s wrong with us lately? We’re actually getting along, for once.” Newt joked.

         “Oh now _that’s_ such a depressing thing to say.” Hermann chided, albeit with a smirk.

         “Well it’s true! We’re both such self-important assholes we forget that we were kind of made for each other.”

         Hermann scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Unfortunately our downfall keeps being that we both think we’ve got each other figured out, and no one can...”

         He stopped abruptly and became silent.

         Newt glanced over and noticed his lab partner appeared quite morose. Such a rapid downswing in mood was Newt’s own trademark. He worried that his partner’s pain had returned. Newt opened his mouth to ask but--

         “I’m sorry I didn’t invite you to the wedding.” Hermann whispered.

         Newt thanked his stars he wasn’t mid-sip, for he certainly would have choked on it, or worse.

         He had waited years, hoping Hermann would say something, _anything_ , about the snub, but concluded it would never happen. Newt thought he’d relish the apology, having been so hurt by it, but instead felt... guilty.

         “Oh w-well... that was after we broke u--” Newt swallowed the word, “A-Apart.”

         “Even so...” Hermann stirred his drink pensively, watching the milky vortex. “Feels petty now.”

         Newt remembered feeling betrayed and spiralling into a pit of self-loathing. He had to be consoled and hugged by his father, like a small weeping child, despite being on the verge of 30. His dad was the only one Newt confided in truthfully about his falling out with Hermann. Jacob Geiszler knew what it was like to get dumped by someone thought to be one’s soul mate, though his son wasn’t involved in a run-of-the-mill whirlwind romance. It was different. Too complex for Newt to put into words, yet purely simple in feeling.

         “Vanessa suggested I should invite you.” Herman admitted, snapping Newt out of his thoughts.

         “Why?” Newt queried. “She doesn’t even know me.”

         “She saw firsthand the toll it took on me. She knew not even she could fill the... _void_ inside myself from losing our friendship.” His eyes flickered toward Newt, who was staring back intensely, hanging on every word.

         Hermann, rattled, averted his gaze again and continued. “I tried to convince myself she could, but she told me over and over that one person can’t be _everything_. She thought the wedding might be the perfect chance to ‘Extend an olive branch’, as she put it.”

         Newt had learned so much about Vanessa in the past few hours; he was yearning to shake the woman’s hand.

         Hermann sighed. “I told her I didn’t want to get in another row with you and ruin the whole wedding. She said if you and I ever reconciled I may beat myself up over it.”

         Newt eyed him curiously, though hesitant to speak. Hermann stared off like he was second-guessing every decision he ever made.

         Newt didn’t even have to ask: Hermann _had_ been beating himself up about it, as Vanessa had foretold.

         “Would you have come?” Hermann asked hoarsely, eyes still glazed.

         Newt’s stomach lurched.

         In hindsight, of course he would have. All Newt wanted in the world was to pretend like nothing ever happened, even if his pride would’ve done it’s best to hold him back. Had an invite arrived, he wouldn’t have cried at dinner and caused such a public scene the day he found out his former pen pal had been wed. It wouldn’t have planted the seed of spite in his heart and aggravated the notion in the darkest parts of his mind that Hermann Gottlieb didn’t give a damn about him.

         Though, on second thought; maybe he wouldn’t have gone? Maybe he would have held out just to torture Hermann. To show him what it felt like to be stabbed in the back by your best friend. Newton Geiszler was not a bad man, but after having his soul crushed he was hard-pressed not to hold a grudge.

         But to say all that to his friend, who was already fretting himself to death? Newt’s social graces may have been lacking, but even he knew better than to plummet such a sharp truth into Hermann’s guilt-ridden heart. After all, the pair were making so much progress.

         “N-Nah...” Newt lied. “I... I was pretty mad still.”

         He squinted at Hermann, bracing himself for the response. Hermann inhaled deeply, then nodded his head; slowly at first but then faster.

         “That’s what I thought,” he replied softly. “And I do not blame you in the slightest. It was a messy break between us, and I denied it for a long time but... I feasibly could have handled things more delicately, in hindsight.”

         “You were dealing with me, man. There’s no delicacy to be had; I’m a bull in a china shop.”

         Hermann laughed softly, then said: “That idiom has been proven to be false, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

         “God, you’re a nerd.” Newt chortled.

         “As are you. It’s our _job_.”

         They looked at each other and both felt the same warm and fuzzy feeling. It was safe, and oddly peaceful.

         “It feels good to get that off my chest. It’s been sitting there for... years.” Hermann quietly said.

         “I bet.” Newt scratched his neck. “You dropped quite a bomb on me. A couple, actually.”

         “I’m sorry--”

         “No, it’s not a bad... bomb. OK, poor wording.” Newt laughed.

         “No-- I--- you’re right.” Hermann waved a hand. “Honestly I surprised myself with that one. It’s something I thought I’d only bring up after _many_ drinks, but to be uninebriated I... something... feels different.”

         Something did feel different. It almost felt like things between them had finally _mended_. Like the years of frigid silence and fervid quarrels had never even happened. Perhaps Hermann narrowly dodging a catastrophic accident was the jolt to the system they needed to realize what was important in life. To push them to finally hash it out, and simply be honest for once.

         Newt wanted to say something to this effect, but feared his words might jinx it. So he simply nodded.

         “I needed this.” Hermann sighed. “This talk, this meal, this... recharge.”

         “I’m glad I could help, man.”

         Hermann looked back at Newt, the color returning to the physicist’s face. Hermann resembled a living person again, albeit one who needed a few months of sleep.

         He then straightened up and snapped his fingers.

         “Well! Back to it, then!” Hermann said with more energy than he had in weeks.

         Newt almost choked on a tapioca. “What, work?”

         “Of course, work, why else would we be here?”

         “You should just take it easy---”

         “Nonsense! We have a world to save.” He turned to Newt with a face of eager determination.

         “I mean, you’re not wrong...” Newt replied, befuddled but relieved by the renewed life in Hermann’s voice and demeanor.

         “Once we win we won’t have to worry about a damned thing ever again.”

         Newt raised a quizzical brow. “Ever?”

         “Well in comparison,” Hermann shrugged, “All potatoes will seem small after these Kaiju-sized ones.”

         Newt grinned at Hermann’s butchered idiom.

         “Now Newton, be a good chap and wheel me over, will you?”

         ---

         They skipped out on the call for dinner for a second day, both nibbling on leftovers from lunch. The keys on Hermann’s computer clicked with great frenzy, echoing throughout the metal-covered lab. He would stop for nothing.

         The constant clattering was of great comfort to Newt as he alternated between lazily filling out paperwork and playing a game on his phone. Usually Hermann nagged him about giving in to his ADD so blatantly, but today he was in too good a mood to care or even notice.

         Newt shuffled by Hermann’s desk every so often, to ardently check on both his progress and demeanor. On the last pass he heard his partner mumbling, and Newt slowed his gait to listen in.

         “... after a meal so filling I wouldn’t expect myself to feel peckish at all.” Hermann was saying, half to himself. “Maybe a biscuit from the vending machine...”

         “Oh! Speaking of, that reminds me...” Newt chirped, quickly heading back to his station to grab some other gifts. (Though Newt kept his herbal shop purchases in his messenger bag, not courageous enough to hand those over quite yet.)

         Newt returned to Hermann, holding out the paper shopping bag proudly. Hermann stared, perplexed, before hesitantly accepting it.

         “Newton, what did you do?” he asked skeptically, knowing presents were usually dropped sheepishly and wordlessly on his desk after Newton screwed up big time or wronged him in some way.

         “Nothing.” Newt said in a successfully casual tone. “I just know you’re... having a rough time and I just thought you earned a little something.”

         Hermann opened the bag slightly and peered inside. He looked up at Newt, with a furrowed brow.

         “So many things,” he said in bewilderment. “Between this and lunch-- Honestly, you didn’t have to spend your money on me.”

         “We get free room and board, man. We get free meals. We literally have no cost of living. So I get to spend my pennies on something I care about.”

         Hermann’s ears turned pink, apparently realizing that “something” meant him. Newt pretended not to notice.

         “Just think of it as payback for all the stuff I’ve put you through --- _or_ payment upfront for all the ways I’m gonna piss you off.” Newt added.

         Hermann laughed derisively, and opened it up again. “You _do_ know what I like...”

         Newt grinned with triumph, leaning against the desk.

         "How is it you know these things?” Hermann continued. “What I want to eat? What puts me at ease? It's like you can read my mind."

         Newt’s smile became more bashful. “Hey. We’ve been cooped-up together for like... God knows how many years. I’d have to be a dummy not to learn.”

         “Are you sure we didn’t drift at some point, and I don’t remember?” Hermann joked.

         “You’d drift with me?” Newt asked, with a bit of schmaltz.

         “Oh God no,” Hermann balked, “That sounds like a nightmare.”

         Newt laughed, masking the slight disappointment that Hermann had shut down the idea so unequivocally.

         “Honestly, I doubt we’re even drift compatible.” Hermann added. “Our brains _together_? Scrambled eggs in an instant.”

         “Yeah...”

         Newt always wondered if they were compatible. He liked to believe they would be. Pretending it was true was an odd sort of comfort. He perpetually felt misunderstood, so the idea of mind-melding with his most-important-person was like an utmost fantasy. Maybe if Hermann truly got inside his brain he’d finally... _Nah_ , _that’d be too good to be true._

         “You alright?” Hermann asked, jolting Newt out of his head.

         “Y-Yeah, I just spaced out for a second.”

         “Is that all?” Hermann looked at him skeptically.

         Newt gulped loudly, letting his guard down as he wondered just how well Hermann had learned to read him after years of observation.

         Hermann laughed suddenly, making Newt squirm with confusion.

         “You get the daffiest looks on your face when you think you’re in trouble, you know?” Hermann teased. “It’s like you truly think _I_ can read your thoughts.”

         Newt jammed his hands in his pockets sheepishly, questioning what kind of silly expressions he’d been making all these times. He felt self-conscious, but at the same time gratified by how tickled Hermann seemed to be.

         Hermann definitely was not as mobile as usual, but his mood was certainly the best Newt had seen in possibly years.

         “Glad to see you’ve perked up.” Newt commented, regaining his voice.

         “Imagine how I must feel. You’re usually a detriment to my productivity but today you’re the only reason I’m getting anything done.”

         “First time for everything.” Newt quipped back.

         “Yes, I suppose.” Hermann replied with a heaving sigh. He then glanced over at Newt with a smirk. “ _And_ you’ve tidied up a bit.”

         “Well I don’t really have anything to do--”

         “Who are you and what have you done with my lab partner?”

         “Hey, I could ask the same of you, man. I didn’t know you still knew how to smile.”

         “Oh come now--” Hermann rolled his eyes.

         “It’s true! Before this week when is the last time you smiled at me? Or anyone?”

         “Am... I really that gloomy seeming?” Hermann eyed him pensively.

         “Well more like you have a serious case of resting monster face.” Newt shrugged. “Though no one can blame you-- this past month has been like... _heavy._ ”

         “Yes.” Hermann said quietly. He seemed to be retreating back into himself.

          _Dammit_ , Newt cursed his big mouth.

         “Hey man, cheer up.” Newt impulsively ruffled Hermann’s hair.

         “ _Don’t.”_ Hermann whined, trying to flatten it back down. “You’re such a pain.” He glared at Newt, who grinned back.

         “See? Now everything’s back to normal. You’re scowling and I’m obnoxious.”

         “I wasn’t _complaining_ , I was quite enjoying it.” Hermann grumbled. He pried open the tin of hard candies and popped one in his mouth disgruntledly.

         After a few moments pause Hermann sighed heavily, and tapped his fingers on his chair.

         “What’s the plan, man?” Newt asked, sensing Hermann wanted to express something.

         “I say we should head back early.” Hermann said, seeming a bit cagey.

         Newt eyed him skeptically. “Really? Even with work?”

         “Well, I think I’ve accomplished an adequate amount today... considering everything that occurred. And... I could do with a good night’s sleep.”

         Newt mulled over it for a second. “Well, I can’t argue with _that_.”

         “Besides...” Hermann lowered his voice. “I need to use the lav and I don’t want you escorting me to the public men’s room.”

         Newt snorted. “You don’t want me holding your hand at the urinal?”

         “Dear God, if it ever comes to that please put me down.” Hermann hissed, his cheeks reddening.

         “Don’t be ridiculous.” Newt chided.

         “ _You’re_ ridiculous.” Hermann muttered. “G-Go, get your things in order.”

         “Fine, fine.” Newt said non-combatively.

         Newt took his ragged notebook and stack of papers from his station and stuffed it in his bag. The package from the herbal shop crumpled loudly. He bit his lip and hoped the sound wouldn’t raise suspicion. Newt worried the amount of gifts purchased would arouse ire.

         He peeked into his bag, making sure he hadn’t crushed it too badly.

         “By the way...”

         Newt jumped, not expecting to hear the voice so close, and _directly_ behind him. He spun around. Hermann had somehow silently made his way to the desk, and was now gazing off at nothing.

         “If you need to do some work in the dorm,” Hermann continued nonchalantly, “...you’re welcome to use my desk.’

         “O-OK...” Newt stammered.

         Hermann mutely held out his arm. Newt stared at it for a moment, wondering if this was some sort of stretch.

         Hermann cleared his throat, furrowing his brow at his partner.

         “Oh!” He suddenly understood the cue and clumsily grabbed Hermann’s arm.

         Hermann chuckled softly, and it rippled through Newt’s chest. His lab partner usually seemed so touch averse; he was being remarkably insouciant about this. It was almost as if he _enjoyed_ watching Newt get so flustered.

         Hermann was wobbly again. Newt looked at him with concern, but Hermann smiled reassuringly.

         “May I hold on as I find my balance again?” Hermann asked shyly, as if Newt disliked the contact.

         “Anything you need, man,” he answered dutifully. Though he teased about the things Hermann required assistance with, Newt honestly would do whatever necessary without protest.

         Hermann made a noise as if a ‘thank you’ got caught in his throat.

         Newt could feel the warmth radiating off of his partner’s core. They took careful steps, Newt following Hermann’s lead as he gained confidence. It was pleasant to be able to be so close to him. To be trusted this much.

         Hermann’s weight lessened against Newt. Their pace gradually quickened to a slow stroll, feeling leisurely and without purpose. Newt’s mind wandered, forgetting his task, fixating on how nice and secure it felt to walk with someone this way. How he’d never done it before. How Hermann was continuing to be his first ‘ _lot’s of things’_.

         As they approached the corridor’s end Hermann hastily took his arm from Newt’s grasp. Newt was momentarily taken aback; Until he remembered that in Hermann’s mind being seen link-armed with his coworker was probably a fate worse than death.

          _Well, so much for that._ Newt thought, as Hermann steadied his weight against his cane.

          _But hey, it’s progress._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to everyone who sticks by this niche lil fic and puts up with my sporadic updates.  
> Thanks to everyone who comments and helps me keep this train chugging.  
> Thanks to geniusbee for beta-ing and making the brain-foggy bits readable.  
> Thanks to my loved ones for giving me inspiration to draw from. (Good and bad)
> 
> It's Valentines, please remember all types of love matter today.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey it's my birthday (as of the 8th), and I'm giving _you guys_ a gift! ;)

        “Alright. I’m officially moved in.” Newt quipped. He dropped his bags on the floor of Hermann's room with a puff.

        Hermann laughed awkwardly, as if he couldn’t decipher whether Newt was joking. Newt wasn’t quite sure either, but whatever the case he was willing to stay for the long-haul, if his friend needed.

        “You holding up OK, buddy?” Newt asked. “You wobbled a bit out there."

        “Yes, I’m alright. It’s just, you know, muscle fatigue.”

        “Need anything?”

        “Not quite yet. Gonna use the loo first.”

        Newt snorted. “The _‘loo’._  You’re so British they’re gonna take away your German card.”

        " _My_ German card? At least I sound European, you _Ami_ ,” he chaffed back.

        “They’re gonna take away _both_ our cards because we share a native tongue, and yet we don't even speak it with each other.”

        “I’m not too fond of it anymore." Hermann shrugged one shoulder. "Reminds me of my father.”

        “Reminds me of my mother. Damn Deutsch to hell; English it is.” Newt smirked.

        “I think I may take this opportunity to wash up a bit.” Hermann said, changing the subject. “Since I cannot shower quite yet.”

        “Y-Yeah, OK.” Newt nodded, a tad self-conscious about the fact that he himself hadn’t bathed. Unlike Hermann, had he no excuse.

        “So, um, a little assistance with this top, if you don’t mind?” Hermann asked shyly, tugging on his sweater.

        “Of course.” Newt said, trying to sound friendly but not overeager. He helped pull the sweater over Hermann’s head, and undid a few shirt buttons. Hermann gave him a small but warm smile in response. It made Newt’s insides squirm, but not in an unpleasant way.

        “There’s an electric kettle there at the desk. Feel free to make yourself something.” Hermann said, with the air of a party host. “There’s water in it already. I have many decaffeinated teas.”

        He then made his way to the attached bathroom to ready himself for bed.

        Winding down with a cup of tea _did_ sound nice. It may qualm the waves of excitement that had been rushing through him all day.

        Newt turned back towards the desk and rifled through the tin. After finding something appealing he picked up an empty mug that had been shoved into the corner. It was large, ceramic, and had different colored hand writing all over. Newt realized they were signatures. He turned it around to see the PPDC logo with 'Владивосто́к' typed in bold letters. A message in cursive was above it:

        ‘ _We’ll miss you Dr. Gottlieb'_

        It was a _gift_ , signed by what he could only assume were Hermann’s old co-workers from Vladivostok. Heck, the Kaidonovskys were on there; autographs almost as large and imposing as the pilots themselves. It was such a cute sentimental object, no wonder Hermann kept it locked away in his bedroom. Newt felt slightly guilty using it for himself.

        As he waited for the kettle, Newt went through the overnight bag and slipped on his oversized X-Files t-shirt he’d owned since college. He also put on some pajama shorts, knowing Hermann would prefer those to Newt being in his underwear.

        Newt sat down at Hermann’s desk, taking him up on the offer to use it as a workspace -- though instead of going over his notes, his attention deficit was distracted by the decor.

        Aside from the science altar, there were additional photographs of a much more personal nature.

        In one frame a picture of a teen girl wearing something straight out of the 90’s, arm around an adult woman in an apron. They resembled Hermann in both eyes and smile. Newt assumed it must be his sister Karla and their mother.

        Next to it was photo of a college-age boy in a footballer uniform. He also looked like Hermann, though he had blue eyes, a much squarer face and stocky build. There _was_ another brother, but no snapshot of him was present. Newt knew why there’d be no image of Hermann’s father anywhere, and wondered if the last sibling was missing for similar reasons.

        Newt’s eyes moved to a group shot of people in lab coats. Hermann’s old team? He squinted at the faces. Hermann's stuck out immediately; the only one who wasn't smiling. He wasn’t dour, just serious. Dignified. The same look he got when he was presenting something he was proud of, but didn’t want to seem arrogant.

        The last frame was a bridal photo of Vanessa looking unsurprisingly radiant, but with Hermann absent. Shame. Newt would’ve liked to have seen a picture of his colleague all spiffed up, since he missed the wedding entirely. 24 hours ago anything pertaining the nuptials would have been extremely upsetting to see, but after the apology he was practically over it. Funny how fast things can change.

        Newt felt himself becoming slightly flustered again. There was just something kind of thrilling about things going well in his personal life, like he was getting a second chance he maybe didn’t even deserve.

        The knob of the bathroom door clicked. Newt hurriedly opened his notebook to pretend like he wasn’t staring dreamily at the personal belongings of his rekindled friend.

        “You doing OK, buddy?” Newt inquired, playing it cool and not turning around.

        “Mmhmm.” Hermann responded agreeably from the other side of the room.

        “I’m just going over my notes.” Newt continued, trying to keep the ruse going. “You know, it’s really something having to put aside all the biology you learn in school and basically teach yourself a brand new type of organic system. I mean, I could dump all my degrees in the trash at this point, y’know? It’s a good thing I’m such a fast learner cause--”

        Hermann came up behind him and ruffled his hair. Newt stopped speaking and exhaled the rest of the air in his lungs. All he could focus on now were the fingernails running against the back of his head.

        “My god that’s all it takes to shut you up?” Hermann said with sly amusement. “Wish I had known that ages ago. Well, if you _behave_ there’s more where that came from.”

        Newt made a soft noise of contentment, then blushed at the emission.

        Hermann chuckled. “You really like that, hmm? You're like a cat or something.”

        “I guess.” Newt squeaked.

        “I like animals very much, you know.” Hermann added, pulling his hand away.

        Newt snorted, regaining his faux aloofness. “The first time Max wandered into our lab you almost fell out of your chair onto the floor trying to pet him.”

        Hermann laughed louder. “It was perhaps a bit of an overreaction, I admit.”

        “Hey anyone who gets down on the floor with a dog is a good person.” Newt shrugged.

        “You kind of remind me of one. In general. An animal, I mean.” Hermann mused. “ _No offense_. I just mean you mainly act on instinct. I find I understand certain behaviors of yours better when I use that comparison. Makes it harder to stay angry sometimes too.”

        “Huh.” Newt remarked.

        “I wonder if that’s why you understand Kaiju in a way others don’t.” Hermann continued. “You seem to know how they’ll go about things. You’re not good with predicting human reactions, but it’s almost psychic with Kaiju. It’s perhaps comparable to animal empathy.”

        “That’s true, people _like me_ are usually good with animals, and not other people.” Newt sipped his tea thoughtfully. “I guess I never thought of it that way. Guess I was hardwired for this job.’

        “I didn’t mean to imply any of your mental quirks made you less than human or something.” Hermann clarified anxiously.

        “No, no, I didn’t take it that way.” Newt turned and smiled reassuringly.

        The fact that Hermann referred to any of his mental disorders as ‘quirks’ had always been appreciated. He knew that had something to do with Hermann having to deal with disabilities himself, albeit of the physical type. Newt wasn’t sure if Hermann had any wiring issues in his own brain, though he often speculated, (silently), if Hermann might be on the spectrum as well. They were just minor signs, like Hermann having difficulty recognizing faces and how he liked to rub chalk dust on his hands. Newt may have just been projecting, but still, they were little things that made him smile.

        “That was alright, I hope?” Hermann asked suddenly, eyeing Newt cautiously.

        “Yeah... Why?”

        “Some people don’t like to be touched.”

        “Well yeah, but if its someone I trust...”

        “You... trust me.” Hermann looked intrigued.

        “Yeah.” Newt squinted, hesitant. “Don’t... don’t you trust me?”

        “I... never really thought about it.”

        “Well, I mean... you _must,_ to have let me stay with you.”

        “I... Yes. You know, yes I do.” Hermann stated, brow furrowed. “You drive me crazy but... I trust you.”

        Newt smiled, warmth rushing to his heart.

        Speaking of trust, Newt noticed Hermann still hadn’t changed into pajamas. Instead he had his undershirt and trousers on. The belt, however, was missing.

        “Need some help again?” Newt offered.

        “Oh, ah...” Hermann leaned on his cane anxiously. “Well, _a little_.”

        “‘Kay.” Newt said with levity, trying to dispel any nerves Hermann may have.

        “I tried to do it myself, but it was exhausting enough getting my button-up off for some damned reason.”

        “Don’t worry about it, man.” Newt said nonchalantly.

        Hermann sat on the bed again. He still seemed a bit awkward, but at least he was no longer mortified.

        Newt figured small talk would take the focus away from the task.

        “I saw Mori today.” Newt said, removing Hermann’s shoes.

        “Mori’s back?”

        “Mmhmm.”

        “That means, the Marshall...”

        “Probably...” Newt’s face turned mischievous. “Oh right you have a _big fat crush_ on him.”

        “What? No.” Hermann snapped.

        “OK, you want him to adopt you like Mori.”

        “N-No!!” Hermann hissed again.

        Newt chuckled to himself, seeing that Hermann was now completely oblivious to the undressing taking place.

        “Why must you be so absurd? Can’t a man have a professional admiration for another?” Hermann was almost pouting.

        “I’m joking. He’s cool, dude. He’s like an action hero. And he thinks you’re cool too.” Newt said, putting the shirt onto his friend.

        Hermann’s looked at Newt intrigued. “Wait, do you think? Why? I mean, do you know or are you just speculating?” he asked like an infatuated teenager.

        “I mean you of all people stood by him as one of his most vocal supporters when everyone else wrote him off, and he’s let you have a lot of free reign with your experiments. So I mean, the dude respects you.”

        “Oh. Well.” Hermann said, like he’d just heard brand new information. “I... I suppose.”

        His body language changed and he sat with a little more confidence. Newt smirked. It was like distracting a child from their booster shot. The dress pants came off and the pajama bottoms went on like it was no big deal at all. Hermann was mentally off in his happy-place, in all likelihood.

        “All good.” Newt said.

        “Oh-- yes. Thank you.” He gave a relieved smile. “How’s your tea?”

        “It’s really nice. Uh, I’d make you a cup but you’ve only got one mug.”

        “That’s alright. I’ll just have a bit of yours with my medications, if you don’t mind.” Hermann said, crawling into his bed.

        “T-Totally.” Newt replied, slightly stunned. Hermann was always adamant about not sharing cups or utensils with him in that way. Newt had assumed it was some germaphobic quirk or a precaution of a weak immune system.

        He grabbed the mug and handed it to Hermann, who thanked him and took a small sip.

        Newt began gathering the nightly pills, remembering the order without instruction this time.

        “Give me another one of those blue ones.” Hermann requested suddenly.

        “Are you sure? It says--”

        “Stop being nosy.” He tried to reach for it. “Just give it to me!”

        Newt shook out another tablet into his hand. “OK, jeez, I was just--”

        “You think you know more than me about my personal business?” Hermann accused.

        “Dude, chill, _I get it._ ” Newt stared him down.

        Hermann then nodded.

        “God, get so riled up you would have spilled your tea all over your bed.” Newt muttered. “That’s shit _I_ would do, not _you_.”

        “Sorry.” Hermann said quietly after swallowing the pills.

        “It’s OK, man, I’m just looking out for you.”

        They were silent as Hermann sipped more from his mug. Newt felt a little awkward, wondering if he’d overstepped.

        He glanced back at Hermann, who was eyeing him tentatively, as if he wanted to say something. Newt raised his brow, giving permission.

        “I notice you stroke things a lot.” Herman pointed out.

        “Hmm?”

        “You’re running the bedsheets through your fingers. I notice you do that. With metal, or wood, or fabric, or your desk toys. Seems to be an absent minded sort of habit.”

        “It’s comforting.” Newt replied in a small voice, not realizing he _had been_.

        “I’m sure.” Hermann smiled, seemingly at ease again. “I find myself to be very happy with an animal on my lap. When we were kids we had a rabbit. I used to pet it when I felt ill or something was worrying me.”

        “Did it help?”

        “Immensely.”

        The question had been spinning in Newt’s mind ever since their first night together. He took a deep breath. It was now or never.

        “Herm?”

        “Hmn.”

        “The other night, is that why you were stroking _my hair?”_ Newt asked shyly.

        Hermann paused to think. Newt gulped, and hoped it wasn't audible.

        “...  _Yes_...” he finally answered.

        “Oh...” A swell of relief washed over Newt, “I thought... maybe I’d dreamed it.”

        “As did I, actually” Hermann admitted.

        “Really?” Newt was surprised.

        “Yes... sometimes that medication makes me so hazy the lines between life and dreaming blur together after the fact.”

        “D’you think... You’ll remember this?”

        “Of course I will. I was _exhausted_ the other day,” he said, handing Newt the mug.

        “I haven’t had a slumber party since I was a kid.” Newt chuckled.

        “I uh... never been to one.” Hermann mumbled.

        “No?!”

        “No, I didn't like sleeping in strange places.”

        “Well better late than never. Should be play Truth or Dare? I Never? We already had an existential crisis.” Newt grinned.

        “Is that a conversation that happens?” Hermann asked, almost skeptically.

        “ _Oh yeah._ ”

        “I figured Truth or Dare was, but I didn’t know children covered such deep topics.”

        “I mean, when we got to like, puberty, the whole sleepover conversations shifted to, uh, _other stuff_... and that was kind of the _end of that_.” Newt waved a hand. “Like, I no longer felt comfortable around guys my age.”

        “We're you 'out' at school?” Hermann inquired.

        “You mean, gay or...?”

        “No, as an asexual.”

        “Oh, nah, not really.” Newt shook his head. “Only to my girl friends. They thought it was cute. Some even wanted to date me... really pretty girls, really nice girls, but unfortunately they're not my type. Obviously.”

        “So your male friends didn't know?”

        “Ehh... I learned pretty early it doesn't really go over well with dudes. I made the mistake of it once, and they thought it was hilarious to show me really lewd things on their phones when I was least expecting it.”

        “That’s _repulsive_.” Herman said, scandalized.

        “It comes with the territory.”

        Hermann scowled. Newt shrugged.

        “So you never dated in school?” Hermann asked.

        “Well...” Newt made a face. “Almost.”

        “Almost?”

        “It’s a long story.” Newt answered, kind of not wanting to get into it.

        “I don’t mind.” Hermann rebutted, sitting up with interest.

        “Well... OK.” Newt took a deep breath. “I _almost_ dated this one guy when I was... 27? 28? He was a college student who’d dropped out and came back, and I was teaching there-- I wasn’t his teacher, don’t worry.”

        “ _Was gonna say...”_ Herman muttered.

        “Anyway, he was super cute and just as gay and we were at this like low-key shindig, not a college party but like... a ‘queer academic get together’ -- it sounds weird I know -- and he was flirting with me like, _hardcore_ , and no one had _ever_ flirted with me outside of like super drunk guys at the bar. And I was kinda like, having issues with my weight and self-esteem, thought I wasn’t gonna, like, ever fit the ‘type’ of the guys who were _my_ type.” Newt cleared his throat. “But _anyway_ , he’s like totally into me and I’m like... aesthetically attracted to him, like ‘OK, I can work with this’.”

        “Aesthetically?” Hermann questioned.

        “Well, I mean... it wasn't really _him_ , like, he didn’t have that much personality but he was a smooth talker, which I guess should have been a red flag but... I’d never really been swept off my feet before. And again he was hot, like _out of my league_ hot. And I’m... like... I’m in my late 20’s and I’ve never had a boyfriend or a date or anything. So... yeah, I can ‘learn to love him’, is what I thought, because no one else in the whole damn world wants me.”

        Hermann frowned but nodded.

        “So I gave him my number and stuff, and we texted every once in a while and he kept sending me pics and being super flirty. Pointing out all the physical stuff he liked about me. Which was like... unprecedented in my personal life, and I was sucked into the novelty of it.” Newt smiled distantly. “Yeah so, on a Saturday night I’d finished grading and he _calls me_ , which no one does, right? So I’m like, oh shit _this is serious!_ ” Newt put his hands on his head in emphases. “He’s all ‘I need to see you in person, text and photos isn’t the same’ and he invites me to his apartment because he’s interested in my film knowledge or something and like, I dunno, I just put on something cute and ran over there as fast as I could.

        “I get there and he’s like, in a tank top and nice underwear and I’m like wow I’m over dressed. And there’s like wine and mood-lighting and shit, and I’m all... OK this is cute, I dig. But every time I started talking about movies he would change the subject. And for a while I went along with it OK, but then he asked me what my 'drink number' was.” Newt’s face went blank. “And then I realized straight-up it was a booty call.”

        “A what?” Hermann wrinkled his nose.

        “He called me over to sleep with him, and not the kind you and I do.”

        “But did he know you were ace?”

        “Yep. But, y’know... _allo dudes gonna allo_.”

        Hermann nodded slowly as if he didn’t quite understand the phrase but wanted to be supportive. He looked apprehensive. “What happened then?”

        “I tried to shut it down, and explained myself AGAIN to him. But he kept begging me to try, _just try_ , that he was good and even if I wasn’t into it I’d still like it? Or something? He said he _really_ wanted me and it would crush him if we didn’t at least try.” Newt sulked.

        “You... You didn’t...” Hermann said, voice dripping with concern. “He _didn’t_ , did he?

        “No, no, I... I said I’d need to put a lot of thought into it, and he seemed like less pushy about it after that. And we just got kind of drunk and finally watched a movie, but he kept trying to like, touch me and shit -- in ways that I didn’t want, and I was getting so uncomfortable with how like... _sexually aggressive_ he seemed that I made up an excuse and bailed.” Newt cringed. “He texted me the next day asking if I’d thought about it and I said it wasn’t gonna work out between us. And he sent me this whole like... _woe-is-me_ victimized rant, but... I don’t think he even wanted a relationship, I think he just saw me as like... easy.”

        Hermann stared sadly. “I’m sorry...”

        “Yeah... but you know the worst thing?”

        “What?”

        “I started hating myself thinking I made a huge mistake. That I’d never find anyone as attractive, or who was even _into_ me. And I started like... trying to get myself used to the idea that I was gonna have to just let someone have their way with me, or else I’m always gonna be alone. People turn heel when they hear you’re ace. Or they pressure you into it.”

        “Newton I’m so sorry. That’s...” He cautiously put a hand on Newt’s shoulder. “ _Please_ don’t give up. I believe there’s someone out there for you.”

        “I hope so, 'cos it kind of feels like the good ones got plucked right up already.” Newt replied, eyes flickering towards Hermann.

        “Things don’t always turn out the way you expect them to, trust me.”

        “Yeah, tell me about it.” Newt muttered, looking down. He felt his mood beginning to fall.

        “My... first love was a childhood friend.” Hermann started, as if he was taking Newt’s sarcastic comment literally.

        Newt's downswing screeched to a halt and did a u-turn. He raised his head with intrigue, _Hermann was about to open up._

        “She was a neighbor girl who also loved space and computers. And due to our common interests and proximity I assumed that she would one day be my wife. Sounds silly, but, you know... I wanted a wife as long as I can remember. I was a hopeless romantic, I watched... _way_ too many of those old films.” Hermann chuckled, “The ones that were ridiculously unrealistic. All the movies and books lead me to believe something that simple was all it took.”

        He glanced at Newt, who smiled supportively.

        “Years later she visited me while I was away at school. We’d exchanged some...” Hermann made an embarrassed face, “... passionate hormone-fueled letters, expressing our building feelings for each other through the years. It felt like my entire life had been leading up to her arrival on that train. We walked around the city... had drinks... went back to her hotel room... _had more drinks_... and... well... quickly figured out that we really had no real... _physical_ chemistry what-so-ever.”

        “ _Bummer?_ ” Newt queried.

        “I mean, she was gorgeous and I loved her, and I still love her _in a way,_ but that was the day I learned that a spark is harder to ignite than one might think. And it was awkward and a bit devastating. I was convinced she was the one for me, and it was supposed to finally be my first real romantic encounter, but there was just... _nothing_.” Hermann shook his head. “I was trying -- we were both trying -- with all our might to _feel_ something, and even then... if you have to try to convince yourself that you want something, what’s the point? You’re lying to yourself, and to them. Imagine if we had gone through with... all the things, just because we had built up in our minds that we would, with each other. We’d both be living a lie.

        “So Newton, I do understand in a way. Because even when you’re not asexual, and you believe with all your heart that you want to make love to a certain someone, sometimes you feel nothing but platonic towards said person once they’re in your bed. And you’re made to think relationships are meant to culminate in sleeping together, but maybe that’s unrealistically simplifying things. Just like, as a child, romance movies lead me to believe Marelie Lenger was supposed to be my future wife. Maybe we’re just lying to ourselves most of the time, forcing ourselves to feel what we think we’re supposed to. Human relationships are much more complicated.”

        They both stared at each other for a few moments, almost as though they were coming to terms with what had just happened between them. They were opening up in ways they hadn’t since the prime of their friendship-- or maybe even ever.

        “Anyway,” Hermann broke eye-contact. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to force yourself to be different. I honestly don’t think you’d have to find someone else who's ace for them to be OK with no sex.”

        “God, I hope so.” Newt scratched the back of his neck.

        “Well, take me for example; my doctors told me a side effect of my medications would be a low sex drive.”

        Newt shifted uneasily.

        “But to be quite honest...” Herman continued, “I don’t feel any different.”

        “Well I mean you don’t always get the side effects.”

        “No, no,” Hermann’s voice dropped, “I mean it’s _low,_ it just never really... _wasn’t_ low.”

        Newt gaped. “Oh...”

        “I don’t really understand why you’re so uncomfortable or repulsed by it, but I never really... understood why people are so... _fixated_.”

        “Dude...”

        “What? Did I say too much?” Hermann winced.

        “No, just... I feel like... you just got _super real_ with me there. Like... we’re almost on the same page about something.”

        Hermann’s expression softened. “Yes... what a rarity.”

        Newt chuckled.

        “If we’re... ‘getting real’...” Hermann started hesitantly.

        “Yeah?”

        “I’m curious now... you want to be with someone, but as an ace what would that entail?”

        “What do you mean?”

        “I mean, it’s obvious what someone who’s _not_ asexual would want, but what is _your_ deepest fantasy? As in, physically. With another person.”

        “Dude that's...” Newt felt extremely flustered. “Woah.”

        “What?” Hermann was befuddled.

        “That's _private stuff_.” Newt said quietly, like he was afraid someone would hear.

        “It's nonsexual though, right?”

        “Well yeah but...”

        “So why so secretive?”

        “Dude just because nonsexual intimacy doesn't have weight to you doesn't mean it's not like... really intense for me.” Newt began blushing.

        “Oh... I never really thought of it that way.” Hermann pursed his lips.

        “Like... my ‘all the way’ may not be sex, but... it's still my only equivalent to it.”

        “I'm sorry, I'm just curious, you must understand.”

        “You're gawking.” Newt said flatly.

        “Am I?” Hermann looked apprehensive.

        “What's _your_ deepest fantasy?” Newt said probingly.

        Hermann turned bright red.

        “See? See? I bet it's real gross, ewww.”

        “Stop that.” Herman said, mortified.

        “I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” Newt said in a teasing voice.

        “Newton _stop_ , that's...”

        “Do you understand where I'm coming from now.” Newt’s tone returned to normal.

        “Yes, yes alright. I'm sorry.” Hermann apologized, shrinking and looking stunned.

        Newt felt kind of bad, not expecting Hermann to react so strongly.

        “Here, because I made you super embarrassed, I'll tell you a little thing about my aceness.”

        Hermann looked up.

        “I can't say for sure how far I'd go, because honestly I've never been with someone who I wanted to go _anywhere_ with. But I do know where I _won't_ go, and I'm not budging on that. Everything in between is kind of a... gray area.”

        “We... all have our limits, I suppose.” Hermann said reflectively. He then quickly added: “Please don't think less of me Newton, I assure you it's nothing too out there...”

        “What, the fantasy?”

        “Er, yes, um--”

        “Really? So it's not some weird role play where you're an astronaut who lands on a planet full of sexy women?”

        Hermann snorted, and covered his mouth.

        “Did I hit the nail on the head?”

        “That is something I can honestly say has never crossed my mind.” Hermann said with amused bewilderment.

        “That's a freebie, you can use that one.”

        Hermann wiped a tear from his eye. “You've seen one too many b-movies, darling.”

        Newt's heart fluttered at the endearment. Hermann laughed again, seemingly unaware of the slip of his tongue.

        “Yeah I guess so.” Newt said, staring back quizzically.

        He sighed happily and looked back a Newt, who was still gazing at him. "What?"

        "Nothin'." Newt said, "I just... I like it when you laugh."

        "Psshh," Hermann replied, looking down but still smiling. “Lucky I still know how, hm?”

        “Yeah.” Newt grinned.

        Newt had forgotten how many layers of a person were stripped away at a sleepover. Something about changing into pajamas made you _emotionally_ unguarded as well. Unafraid to be purely human.

        “What are you into? Like, as in chaste stuff?” Newt inquired, wondering how much more Hermann would unveil tonight.

        “Oh well... I guess I do like cuddling or what-have-you. Vanessa’s not much into it, she’ll humor me but... uh... no, _never mind_ , I shouldn't be talking about this.”

        “About what?”

        “About marital issues.” He looked confused by the words coming out of his mouth. “No-- no they're not _issues_ it's just-- there are some things I need that she can't give me, and vise versa, and that's perfectly reasonable. We have enough things in common that intersect and we’re very happy.”

        “It’s OK, you can cuddle with your pals.” Newt said supportively.

        Hermann laughed. “Well I suppose _technically._ But when would that ever happen?”

        “You need to find more affectionate friends.”

        “Well that and... I wouldn’t do it with just _anyone._ ”

        “What about me?” Newt asked.

        Hermann made an awkward chuckle, as if he were trying to play cool but failing. Well, he didn’t say _no_. Newt decided to accept the response and not push further.

        “I know it’s not _technically_ chaste, but I like the post-sex stuff, in theory. The pillow talk. Where people are being honest and open. Emotional intimacy.”

        Hermann ‘hmm’d thoughtfully, almost like he was agreeing.

        “Kind of like the drift I guess.” Newt mused. “ _Man_ , I want to drift with somebody. There are three goals I have in life. I want to be a rock star--”

        Hermann rolled his eyes.

        “I want to see a Kaiju alive and up close--”

        Hermann groaned.

        “and I want to drift with someone. It sounds so... so...” Newt made a longing noise.

        “You have a tendency to romanticize complex things, Newton.” Hermann said, eyeing Newt with incredulity.

        “I’m just curious. You know, scientifically.” Newt said, feigning innocence.

        Hermann continued giving him a sidelong look.

        “Oh come on, man, haven’t you ever wondered what it would be like to be completely understood?”

        “No. It’s creepy. I still don’t understand your weird infatuation.”

        “You know what it’s like for people to _not get you_. Not understand what you’re going through. Like our entire pen pal relationship was _founded_ on that.”

        “Well yes--”

        “And look at it from my perspective. It’s like impossible for me to describe my experience with asexual emotions and attraction and whatnot. You’ve been trying to wrap your head around it since I came out to you. It’s just something you need to feel. If you _felt it_ you’d know. You’d understand.”

        “I mean... Yes I _suppose_.”

        “That’s why I think... maybe like... the drift would make stuff like that clear.” He glanced up at Hermann pensively, who looked visibly uneasy. “You know a lot about drift tech...”

        “Yes and it's an ingenious breakthrough in terms of planetary defense technology but it's not a toy--”

        “No I just mean--”

        “Drifting is not all fun and games. You will see and learn things about one another you will regret. You don't get to pick and choose what parts of you are exposed.”

        “But that's _why_ it's romantic, dude. That complete trust to allow someone to get that deep in your head. The empathy. The total understanding. Forget about sex, man. _Drifting_ , that's like... the ultimate form of intimacy.”

        “Again, you’re romanticizing it! You literally just used the word!” Hermann looked baffled. “Please respect the fact that the drift makes me _highly_ uncomfortable, the same way I respect the fact that sex repulses _you_ in the same way.”

        “O-Oh...” Newt’s eyes widened. “Oh shit dude...”

        He’d been so caught up in his spiel, he hadn’t noticed that Hermann had completely shrunk away.

        “Herm, I’m sorry. You always scoff at me I... I thought you were like, being dismissive -- I didn’t realize it _freaked you out_ like that.”

        Hermann said nothing.

        “Dude, _communicate_ with me, OK?” Newt pleaded. “Now I feel like a total dick because I’m always going on--”

        “No, don’t.” Hermann waved his hand. “You’re right I... I don’t communicate my feelings. I just... _I dunno._ ” He ran his hand through his hair frustratedly. “It even drives Vanessa crazy sometimes. But... I need to be emotionally rock-solid to make up for everything else... or else... I feel like I’m weak.”

        “Hey, I am mentally ill as hell, does my emotional accommodation make _me_ weak?”

        “Of course not, but you have an excuse.”

        “Look, neurodivergent or not, if something makes you that uncomfortable then you gotta draw a line in the sand, don’t you agree?”

        Hermann shrugged.

        “I told you earlier, people throw my sex repulsion in my face all the time, trying to squick me out, or just being plain insensitive. Do you think I’d let myself do the same to you?”

        Hermann’s eyes finally met Newt’s again. They were appreciative, and glistened slightly.

        “You don’t have to drift with someone for them to understand you.” Hermann said gently.

        “And neither do you, man. If you _communicate_.” Newt emphasized. “You and Vanessa are so lucky to have each other, and I know she’d rather you be one-hundred percent honest with her than try to not be a ‘bother’, because she _loves you_ , man.”

        Hermann's lips twitched into a smile, but he looked like he was trying to hold back tears.

        Newt leaned closer. “I know I haven't formally said it but... congrats on the baby, dude,” he said softly. “I'm really excited for you.”

        Hermann gave a breathy laugh, and quickly wiped his eyes. “Th-Thanks.”

        “Like... I'll probably never have kids for like... multiple reasons.” Newt wrinkled his nose. “But seeing you get to be a dad is the next best thing.”

        “Newton,” Hermann said soberly, his emotions back in check. “I know there is a man out there who you won’t have to force anything with, and would be absolutely _thrilled_ to be your husband.”

        “Heh... _husband._ ” Newt began chuckling to himself.

        “What? Why are you laughing?”

        “I can’t even _imagine_ myself with a husband.”

        “You _will_ find one--”

        “No, I mean... guys are cute and all, but I’ve thought a lot about it lately, and I’m not even sure I _want that_ anyway.” Newt said, feeling more conviction with every word. “Like, I don’t think an ‘other’ has to be romantic to be ‘significant’. I don’t even need something committed or monogamous. Just someone who will fulfill me emotionally. And sleep over every so often.”

        “O-Oh... That’s... Hmm.” Hermann said, face getting slightly flushed.

        “But, like, that means a lot that you actually care.”

        “I... _huh_...” Hermann furrowed his brow, like he was processing some complicated equation.

        “Wh-what’s up?” Newt asked, noticing his friend’s contemplative demeanor.

        “With regards to what you just said... I feel I must tell you something... for _communication’s_ sake.’

        Newt stared back like a timid animal. “Y-Yeah. Lay it on me.”

        “I never told you but, back when we corresponded through the internet, I... I had feelings for you.”

        “Oh...” Newt whispered breathlessly, as if the wind was suddenly knocked out of him. His eyes stayed transfixed on Hermann.

        “It wasn’t romantic per se... it never felt anything like Vanessa, or Marelie... but it was definitely much different than any other friendship.” Hermann fidgeted awkwardly, “Even while I was dating Vanessa the thing I looked forward to every day was the conversations between you and I. Our e-mails. Your laugh when you left me voicemails talking about the silliest most inconsequential things.”

        Newt swallowed hard. He had no idea he meant that much to Hermann. He’d just assumed that he’d been _replaced_ by Vanessa. Because that’s what always happened, right? Your friend starts dating, and _whomp_ , you’re yesterday’s news. But God, maybe he was a damn idiot for lumping Hermann in with his old school friends. After all... everything between the two of them was, well, _unparalleled._

        “I just... felt like... we _needed_ to be together. Talking wasn’t enough, I just wanted to be _near_ you even if we weren’t saying anything at all.” Hermann was staring off distantly. “When you’d have your little episodes of anxiety, I desperately wanted to cross oceans in order to be with you. I wanted to be there, to take care of you, to make sure you were going to be alright. Stay up all night with you and, if needed, give you my shoulder to cry on.”

        “That’s... really cool, dude.” Newt had no idea how to respond.

        “Newton,” Hermann turned his head to look at him, “Maybe I had just ‘hyped’ you up in my mind, but... quite honestly I thought you were my _soul mate_.”

        Newt felt the familiar butterflies flurry. _His first and only crush liked him back?_

        “It was you.” Newt blurted out, shocking himself.

        “Pardon?”

        “My only real crush. It was you. Back when we used to talk.” Newt was terrified at this point. He was saying too much, but he couldn’t hold back, “I thought you were my soul mate too.”

        Hermann blinked. Newt stared back in absolute fear.

        “And this 'crush'?” Hermann leaned in closer to Newt, “It’s not... romantic?”

        “No.” Newt said, taken aback by Hermann’s nearness. “'Crush' is probably the wrong word to use but... it’s queerplatonic.”

        Hermann looked perplexed, “I don’t...”

        “It’s different. It’s not a normal friendship. It’s still platonic, but it’s deeper. It’s chaste but intense love, in its purest form.”

        Hermann chuckled, in a way Newt had never heard before. Newt felt his entire body engulfed in an inferno.

        “I still can’t say I understand _completely_...” Hermann said thoughtfully.

         _Yeah, of course not._ Everything sounded so stupid to Newt when he tried to put his emotions into words.

        Cat was out of the goddamned bag, there was no turning back. This would be the perfect time for the Kaiju alarm to go off, just to buy himself more time. He felt like he wanted to hide, or even just book it out of the room entirely. Be struck down by lightning so he wouldn’t ever have to face the reality of what he just confessed.

        And then Hermann took his hand in his.

        “But that sounds lovely.” Hermann continued, voice soft and sincere.

        Newt felt dazed. “ _Wh-wha..._ ” he choked out, becoming quite speechless.

        “The fact that you desire something like that so strongly says a lot about you. I have... insight I never possessed before.”

        Newt could not decipher this emotion. He’d never felt anything like it. He mistook it as an urge to vomit, but instead it was a flood of words forcing their way up his throat.

        “I... I never knew how to tell you without scaring you off. I just couldn’t string the words together, I’m so... bad at describing feelings. And then when you and her... I hated myself for not having said anything--”

        Hermann shushed him. Not angrily as usual, but comfortingly.

        “All that is in the past now. You don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

        Newt tried to swallow the lump in his throat. His racing heart began to restore rhythm back to normal after inelegantly spilling his guts out.

        “Do you want me to stroke your hair again?” Hermann asked, trying to calm down his bed-mate.

        ‘ _Oh god, yes please.’_ Were the words Newt wanted to say. But instead he said;

        “I-If you _want..._ ”

        Newt knew he was bright pink at this point.

        “I think it helped me as much as it helped you.” Hermann admitted so casually as he began running his fingers through Newt’s hair, “I suddenly felt very at ease. Probably the same reason petting that rabbit helped me as a kid.”

        Newt sighed happily has Hermann started scratching the back of his scalp. He’d never felt relief this intense. It was like an impossible dream where everything went right. His eyes began to tear up. He tried to hide it behind a yawn.

        “You listen to those ASMR videos don’t you?” Hermann mumbled.

        “How’d you know?” Newt asked, voice cracking slightly.

        “People on the spectrum usually do.”

        “R-Right, yeah...”

        “Your only resource for things like this is those head-massage ones.”

        “Mmhmm.” Newt replied. It felt as though Hermann’s touch was forming a weird psychic connection.

        “Is this comparable?”

        “It’s way better.”

        Hermann laughed softly. Newt felt like he was melting.

        Hermann’s hands were cold, but it felt good on Newt’s hot scalp. He no longer cared if his companion knew he resembled a boiled tomato in both complexion and temperature. His guard was down, his defenses depleted. He was just soft putty in Hermann’s slender hands.

        “Here...” Hermann grabbed a smaller pillow from the side of the bed. He placed it against his chest. “Lay your head here.”

        Newt stared at him.

        “The angle is easier for me.” Hermann explained. “Trust me. This isn’t my first time.”

        Newt slowly abided. Things were escalating fast. What a day. His nervousness dissipated once he felt Hermann’s fingers again. It was so soothing. Nostalgic, almost. Newt hadn’t felt this safe in decades.

        “No one’s done this for me since I was a kid,” he murmured, his eyes growing heavier with each caress.

        “That’s a shame.” Hermann said sympathetically. “Even adults need small comforts.”

        “Yeah...”

        Hermann was taking this all in stride. Newt doubted he truly grasped the weight of his actions.

        “Herm?” Newt asked, eyes still closed.

        “Hmm?”

        “Why are you doing this for me?”

        “Because you’ve been awfully kind to me and I want to express my gratitude.”

        “Yeah but, I’m doing things for you because it’s necessary. I don’t _need_ this.”

        “Are you sure?” Hermann teased, scratching behind Newt’s ear.

        “...... OK, I need this.” Newt sighed blissfully.

        Newt felt as though he’d get lost in time. Hours could pass and he wouldn’t be the wiser.

        In fact, maybe they did?

        He opened his eyes groggily and noticed Hermann’s strokes had become slower.

        “You tired?” Newt asked.

        “My medication is really kicking in, I think.” Hermann said, words slightly slurred.

        “You can stop if you want.”

        “S’alright. I’ll just do it til I can’t any longer.” Hermann responded. “Jus’ turn off the light, yeah?”

        Newt obeyed, and then sunk back into his spot on Hermann’s chest. Hermann’s fingers traced his hairline, growing lazier with each and every pass, until finally they rested on the back of Newt’s head. Newt felt the rise and fall of Hermann’s deep sleepy breaths, the rhythmic motion rocking him to sleep.

        Newt often felt lonely, cripplingly so. He pined for a boyfriend that would make him feel complete. He wanted to know unconditional love. The two people he considered friends here we’re already married. Sexuality aside, it was yet another way to feel like the odd man out.

        But being here with Hermann, laughing, touching, being emotionally honest for once; it made Newt realize he didn’t need romance. He didn’t need a _boyfriend_ , or an exclusive relationship. Hermann didn’t belong to him, and that didn’t bother Newt in the slightest.

        Newt realized his loneliness wasn’t a result of his single status. It was a product of being at odds with the person who used to be his greatest comfort. He thought he’d lost Hermann long ago, the marriage almost a final nail in its coffin; Now here Newt was, dozing off on the man’s chest.

        Rekindling that sense of camaraderie, gaining new trust, feeling like someone would face the unknown beside him, it vanquished the void in his heart. Just give him times like these. Tiny moments like today’s. They would fulfill him. They were a gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right so I mean... LDYA's been around for over 2 years guys, might as well have a little pay-off right? I planned a lot of this around the same time as the first two chapters, but had to fix it up now that I've "improved" with my writing.
> 
> We hit 300 kudos somehow, and wow just thanks again, like, for always being here and supporting and reading... this never was supposed to see the light of day and look where we are. You guys have made me rediscover my childhood love of writing, and have given me a cathartic outlet, and have helped me become brave enough to share it with the public. Thanks a thousand times over. Stay tuned.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Asexual Awareness Week! Sorry for the huge delay, I wound up scrapping, reordering, and rewriting this over the course of 5 months. Also within that time I started and wrote 65k of a new project... but I digress.
> 
> If I replied to your comment like 5 months late, I'm so sorry, some of your comments never showed up in my email ;__; I dunno if that's my email's fault or Ao3's fault. I really appreciate all of you.

        “ _Wha_...?” Newt gasped, jolted from a dream.

        “Guess not then.” Hermann’s voice replied gently.

        Newt’s face felt overheated as though he was lying on a furnace. He groggily peeled his cheek away from skin... skin that was not his own. He suddenly felt awake once realizing that he’d been _very much_ snuggled up against Hermann.

        “I’m sorry.” Newt breathed, wiping the sweat from his face. He turned on the dim light. “Did-- uh, did you say something?”

        “I was asking if you were awake.” Hermann gave a small smile. “You were mumbling.”

        Hermann didn’t seem mortified. Didn’t push Newt away in disgust. In fact if the close contact bothered him at all the way he’d gone about it, waiting until Newt was awake before saying anything, was uncharacteristically polite.

        “Would you get me some water?” Hermann said, arching his neck as though he’d been waiting to move for far too long. “Only if you’re awake though. I don’t want to put upon--”

        “I’m up.” Newt chirped, bounding upright to prove it.

        “9:30...” He heard Hermann’s voice say behind him. “None too shabby.”

        “Did you sleep through the night?” Newt asked as he returned with the glass.

        “I did.” Hermann was slowly sitting up, as if it were taking effort. “Did you?” He took the glass and drank from it cautiously.

        “Like a log, apparently.” Newt replied.

        “Oh... Dear.” Hermann laughed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. The water almost spilled from his hand, but Newt caught it.

        “Talk to me, buddy.” Newt said, feeling a bit concerned.

        “I feel faint. Er-- _spinny_.” Hermann made the motion with his finger.

        “Spinny?”

        “Mmmn.” Hermann nodded lethargically, eyes closed.

        “Vertigo?”

        “ _Yes._ ” Hermann pointed as if Newt had made a scientific breakthrough.

        Newt put a hand on Hermann’s forehead, “You’re all hot, dude.”

        “Could you not tell whilst you were stuck to me like flypaper?” Hermann chuckled lightly, eyes still shut.

        Newt swallowed hard, feeling embarrassed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you hot-- er-- overheat.”

        “No, no, it wasn’t you.” Hermann shook his head. “The heat was coming from me.”

        “What’s with the furnace inside you all of a sudden?” Newt asked softly. “You usually run cold... You sick?”

        “The medication produces night sweats or something of that nature. Boils up my internal temperature.” Hermann sighed. “Nasty, really. It’s not my usual prescription, but the PPDC health insurance switched brands on me.”

        “Shitty.”

        “Indeed.” Hermann said tiredly. “But what can you do.”

        “Well _I_ can get you colder water.” Newt said cheekily.

        Hermann laughed softly. “That would be nice, thank you.”

        “How are you feeling, other than the vertigo?” Newt asked as he replenished the glass.

        “Good, fine," he replied, “I, er... I’m don’t think I’m one-hundred percent in my body right now. Once this dose wears off it’ll creep back.”

        “Are you... sober?”

        “My head is fine, it’s just... drowsy, numb-ish feel. Like I’m waiting for my muscles to wake up and say, ‘Oh yes, time to misbehave’.”

        “Well, while you wait I can go grab us some grub before the hall closes.”

        “Breakfast in bed?” Hermann said airily. “How novel.”

        ---

        By the time Newt arrived with food Hermann was more like himself, chiding Newt for picking foods he deemed too messy to eat in bed-- which he followed it up with an apology, sheepishly acknowledging his reflexive rudeness towards what was yet another kind favor on Newt’s part.

        They got dressed while Hermann prattled on and on about everything; the difference between oxford and derby shoes; the night he’d accidentally mixed medications and swore he was visited by a soviet cosmonaut's ghost. Talking the way he used to when he Newt would kill time during commutes chatting on their phones.

        Maybe this was a fresh start, Newt thought as they headed out the door.

        The sentiment, however, did not last, as if Newt had jinxed it. Hermann seemed quieter and more solemn the closer they got to the lab. By the time they entered, he seemed devoid of life. Newt tried to keep his spirits up, hoping it was just Hermann feeling tired from walking.

        “Can I... Have a chat?” Hermann asked as Newt set down his messenger bag.

        “Uh, isn’t that all we’ve been doing for the past few days?” Newt chortled.

        Hermann gave him a grave look, which made the smile slip off Newt’s face.

        "Newton. The things that I said to you last night... I need you to know that I was... _impaired_."

        "Oh...?" Newt eaked, voice even higher than usual.

        "It's the new medication, you see. It does wonders for the pain but it... makes me a little--"

        "Loopy?"

        "For lack of a better word, yes."

        Newt nodded silently, turning away. He had felt so giddy the night before. He had confessed his true feelings to his lab partner, who seemingly reciprocated. He had lived out one of his fantasies. And then in the harsh florescent light of their frigid lab everything was beginning to seem like a lie. An outlandishly perfect dream evaporating like a mirage.

        He should have noticed, the childlike giggling, the intertwining fingers, the hair stroking; it was too out of character. But in that moment he had willingly blinded himself because _god_ it felt so good to believe.

        What he had thought was the new chapter in his life, the next level in their ever changing relationship, was now a proverbial one night stand.

        He couldn’t read Hermann’s expression. He seemed to be chewing on his lip. Nervous, maybe even conflicted.

        "What exactly... did happen last night?” Hermann asked. “What did I say to you?"

        “You don’t... know?”

        Hermann made an evasive noise.

        Newt mused on this for a moment. One on hand he didn't want to lie to Hermann, it would be a breach of trust. But on the other hand he didn't want to cause even him even more embarrassment if Hermann had truly not meant the things that he did and said.

        "We talked about our past relationships--”

        “Yes, I recall all that. I mean later, before we fell asleep.”

        “You just said... you missed the way things were. You miss the way you felt about me back when we first started out."

        He cringed internally. It technically wasn't a lie, but boy it still felt like one.

        Hermann nodded slowly.

        Newt swallowed hard. "Now that you have more clarity... What am I to you?"

        "Pardon?"

        "What do you think of me? Do you love me?"

        " _Newton._ " Hermann sighed, starting to walk away.

        "I don't mean 'are you in love with me’-- forget the romantic connotations. I just mean, do you love me?"

        Hermann stopped.

        "I... well... I’m not sure how to answer that.”

        It stung. Newt started to feel the reciprocation of queerplatonic love ebbing away from him.

        “Perhaps you are like a brother to me,” he said, tentatively looking at Newt over his shoulder.

         _But which one_ , Newt wondered. The brother pictured on the desk, or the one presumably estranged.

        The gazed at each other for a moment. Hermann blinked his eyes, then looked away.

        “I need to work. I’ve wasted enough time with these flighty things,” he said quietly but with force, as if he were chastising himself rather than Newt.

        “Y-Yeah. Do that.” Newt said, feeling awkward and suddenly very small in the cavernous room.

        Newt felt the urge to busy himself with experiments to avoid these feelings of disappointment, but dammit, there was no work to do. He muttered curses under his breath, digging for his notebook.

        “--- stupid government sh--”

        “Dr Geiszler?”

        Newt jumped and spun around, not expecting to hear a third voice in their lab. He met the gaze of a very attractive young Asian man. Someone who looked youthful and unmarred by the toll of the taxing work-hours and looming apocalypse, like he belonged on the recruitment posters and not in the PPDC proper.

        “P-Present.” Newt sputtered out, caught off guard.

        “I’m here to say your Kaiju specimens should be here tomorrow,” he said with a slightly British accent. His voice wavered in and out like he had stagefright. “Um, the transport board sends their apologies for any more delays.”

        “Too little too late.” Newt quipped. The messenger’s eyes widened. “N-Not to you, I’m just uh... cursing at the void--- hey, doesn’t Lin usually do these updates?”

        “Lin has the flu... I think.”

        “Yikes.”

        “Sorry, I wish him a sp-speedy recovery,” he stammered, screwing up his face.

        “Yeah, well if you see him tell him no rush. Take it easy.” Newt said, feeling like with every sentence he was making the kid more uncomfortable.

        “Oh--!” he exclaimed, expression as if a light bulb had turned on, “I’m Shotaro Kazuma, uh... Commander Choi told me to tell you, so um, I’m telling you.”

        “Oh, uh, nice to meet you then.” Newt offered his hand and Shotaro cautiously accepted, then smiled.

        “It’s an honor to be in your presence, in your lab,” he said, cheeks flushing slightly. “You do such great work to keep us safe.”

        “Jeez, you’re gonna make _me_ blush.” Newt replied.

        “You’re like a celebrity.”

        Hermann gave a humorless laugh.

        Newt whipped around to look at him, perplexed. Hermann stared back with a haughty look Newt hadn’t seen for days.

        “Y-You too, Dr. Gottlieb.” Shotaro said.

        Hermann’s face went blank, and he quickly turned away.

        “Yeah, so... cool, I’ll catch you later.” Newt said back to Shotaro.

        Shotaro beamed. “ _Later_ ,” he said, as if it was a new concept. “A-Alright.”

        He gave something that was the mix between a bow and an awkward wave, and flitted out of the room.

        “So you’re Shotaro.” Newt muttered under his breath, remembering Tendo’s ramblings. He _was_ pretty adorable but---

        “Thought you didn’t want a boyfriend.” Hermann said.

        He turned around and saw Hermann holding a notebook and staring him down like he’d caught a child in a lie.

        “I don’t.” Newt said flatly.

        Hermann widened his eyes derisively.

        Newt cocked his head. “ _I_ thought _you_ didn’t _remember_ our conversations from last night.”

        “I... I don’t.” Hermann huffed, though his jaw twitched. He sat down at his computer with force that seemed too deliberate to be from a weak leg muscle.

        Newt narrowed his eyes, as if trying to see into Hermann’s mind. If Hermann was lying about not remembering, Newt understood why. Still... it hurt his feelings.

        He didn’t like being here, not with the energy. The familiar negativity he thought they’d dispelled like an exorcism was now back as though nothing had happened.

        “I don’t have jack shit to do today so... I’m gonna take a walk.” Newt announced.

        “Good.” Hermann said.

        Newt couldn’t discern the sentiment behind it, which just made him feel more frustrated.

        ---

        He tromped through the metal corridors. Boots pounding against the ground, clanging in his brain. He started hating the sound but his vexation made him stomp with even more compulsion. A vicious cycle.

        In his mind started a rush of rapid thoughts. Breakroom. Junk food. Eat the stress away. Don’t think about Hermann, think about Kaiju. Kaiju parts, soon. Work, soon. Back to the grind. Tight gloves, caustic scents, squishy tissue. Cutting samples; mindless, meticulous, _good._

        "Heyyyyyy little buddy, got cement shoes? Mafia put a hit on government nerds?"

        Newt looked up to see Tendo strolling towards him and smiling.

        "You seem... wiggy." Tendo said.

        "Yeah... I am, dude."

        Tendo's smile faded and his voice lowered, "What's wrong, man? I thought you said you were in a good pla--- _ohhh.._."

        "I don't really want to talk about it."

        "Why not? Talkin's good for ya, remember?"

        "Yeeeeah but.... it's kind of... personal, dude."

        "Hey now, it's me you're talking to." Tendo scoffed, "I'm the unofficial therapist of this here Shatterdome. You know I don't blab... I mean _I do_ , but, y’know, not about the important stuff."

        "Yeah well..." Newt looked around.

        “Here,” Tendo gestured over his shoulder towards the direction of the break room. “Step into my office.”

        ---

        Newt took a seat on the couch. Tendo sat down across from him in another chair, folding his hands.

        “So. What’s the deal, my brother? What’s chewin’ on you so bad?”

        Newt gave a heavy sigh. "It's about me and Hermann---"

        "It always is."

        "-- We've been sleeping together--"

        "Woah what?!" Tendo shouted, nearly tipping his chair over.

        Newt shushed him, looking around at the entrance, making sure no one was coming to investigate.

        Tendo was still gaping at him, "You two-- I mean everyone used to joke that you two were fucking but--"

        "Not like that-- wait they did??" Newt was mortified, "P-People said that?"

        "Shit, man, you didn't know? That's been, like, a running joke for years. How did you not know that?"

        "I guess I just--"

        "Hermann knows that."

        "Hermann knows?!"

        "Yeah man, he told us off once! Said _'How dare you suggest I would cheat on my wife with HIM of all people_ '--” Tendo imitated in a near perfect Hermann impression, “-- And we were like 'Dude, Hermann it's a joke, sarcasm, hyperbole'--"

        "How am I just hearing about this?!"

        "You tell me! No, better yet, you tell me what the hell you mean by you've 'been sleeping together'"

        "Godddddd, OK, it's a long story--"

        "I've got alllll day, buddy.” Tendo leaned back. “I mean, I _don’t,_ but I will clear my goddamn schedule for this."

        "You know how I... _like_ Hermann a lot and--"

        "It would never work out because he's straight, married, and most of the time can't stand you?"

        "Yeah and--"

        "You really like him and you want to be in a queerplatonic relationship with him but he's weirded out by you because he doesn't understand how asexuality works." Tendo rattled off in a monotone voice.

        ".... dude."

        "Sorry man, you've given me this whole spiel before. Get to the chewy candy center."

        "Alright, alright.” Newt waved his hand. “Well, we had a 'bonding' experience the other day, and I tried to explain my needs to him and he actually offered to, y'know, sleep with me--- _not like that_ "

        "So you two are sharing a bed now." Tendo said matter-of-factly, but his face still looked stunned.

        "Yeah and... God, Tendo the past couple nights were the best of my life. He said some awesome things about us, and there was _touching_ and he said he also had a platonic ‘crush’ on me--"

        "Your lab partner. Hermann Gottlieb. The rigid no-nonsense Hermann the German said these things with his mouth."

        "Dude would you just _listen_ \--"

        "Yep."

        "That's _exactly the thing_. It was so... _so_ out of character, I know, and in the moment, God I just wanted to believe it so bad..."

        Tendo's skeptical expression faded away as Newt’s eyes began tearing up profusely, surprising even him.

        "But today he... he took it all back, dude." Newt's voice cracked, "Said it was the 'medication' that made him say all those things..."

        "Bullshit." Tendo interrupted.

        "'Scuse me?"

        “That's bullshit.”

        “I’m telling the truth--”

        “No, no not _that part_.” Tendo wildly waved his hand. “Hermann. Ignore him.”

        “Why?”

        “He _loves_ you."

        "What?"

        "Look, I'm going to break an agreement of confidentiality right now, because fuck it, I'm not a real therapist and I ain’t getting paid to deal with everyone’s baggage, so it’s time everyone just..." He stopped his tangent short.

        Newt tried swallowing the nervousness in his throat. Tendo’s face softened.

        "That guy _loves you_ ,” he continued. “That guy would _die_ for you, did you know that? He'd get stomped by a Kaiju for you."

        "R-Really?"

        "You know better than anyone that he is guarded as hell. He thinks emotions are weak, and that showing weakness is some unforgivable sin. _Paraphrasing_ but, yeah.”

        “He kind of told me that too last night.”

        “Alright, well, you realize it’s not 100% his fault though, right? It's that rigid upbringing. Coping with disability. Emotionally detached parenting -- plus those snobby boarding schools and preparatories, _blegh_. It all boils down to internalized white euro bullshit."

        “Is that all true?” Newt frowned, “Hermann’s never told me much, but he acted like the boarding school was just the norm there.”

        “There? Are you not european too?”

        “I’ve told you, I grew up in the states.”

        “ _Right_ , right. Well, brother, you would not _believe_ the backwards shit he’s endured-- and deep down he’s a sensitive guy. He’s repressed all of that.”

        "So you're saying..."

        "I'm saying you could probably torture him with a branding iron and he wouldn't admit you mean the world to him, out of stuffy pride." Tendo said, putting a hand on Newt's shoulder. “Imagine how mortified he must be to have actually gone against his ‘programming’.”

        The conflicting swells of anger and sadness leveled and he was left seeing clearer. It still kind of stung, but he understood. Hermann was not a tangled web of insecurities that could be unraveled in a night, or even a week. He was slowly undoing years conditioning. And Hermann would have to be willing to put in the work.

        "I'm sick of this whole 'emotions are for ethnic people' bullshit,” Tendo sighed, “With white dudes hiding their feelings all the time."

        "I don't hide my feelings." Newt said almost defensively.

        "Well... you're different, Newt. You're like... what? New age? Which is kind of it's own brand of bullshit, but hey it could be worse."

        Newt frowned but nodded. “I don’t think he’s a bad guy, I just--”

        “Woahhh,” Tendo raised his hands, “Hold up I never said that.”

        “You just seemed--”

        “Sorry, I got a little _venty_ there I guess.” Tendo cringed slightly, looking up at the ceiling and then closing his eyes. “I love Hermann. Sweet guy. Thoughtful guy. What I hate is how he got so messed up by society. Again... I don’t think it’s his fault. He needs to learn that vulnerability is a good thing.”

        “Well it might take a while, because _mine_ drives him up the wall.”

        “I... think he actually might be a little jealous of you, which is why he lashes out."

        Newt gawked at him. “Jealous? Of _me?”_

        Tendo nodded slowly and deliberately.

        “Why? He’s like... ten times smarter than me and he’s got his life sorted out.”

        “Yeah but you are open and free with your feelings. You don’t give a fuck. You don’t have inhibitions. That freaks him out, I think. He doesn’t know how to put his emotions out into the stratosphere.”

        “We _are_ total opposites.”

        “Yeah, and you two must meet in the middle and bring fucking _balance to the Force_. You need to think before you speak, and he needs to speak without thinking. Or just the _truth_ , to be frank.” Tendo leaned back in his chair. "Sorry, I'm not trying to go off on you or anything. I just wish people would, y'know... communicate, dammit."

        "These past weeks have been a... crash-course." Newt said softly.

        “You can’t keep shit bottled up, Newt. You know how toxic that is. Remember when you tried and had a nervous breakdown and had to sleep on my floor?”

        “Yeah...”

        "He also doesn't get it. It scares him. That's probably why he get's so defensive when we joke about you two. He thinks you can only love one person. He may understand numbers but he doesn’t understand that love is a damn spectrum."

        “I’m glad you understand.”

        “I dunno what my deal is, man. Super-empath, maybe. Being a minority, maybe. But a lot of what I learned about people and how to keep relationships was just from sheer experimentation. And Hermann loves to apply it to science, but not to his life.”

        They were quiet for a few moments.

        Tendo sighed again.

        “I’m gonna make a coffee, you want one?” he asked, standing up.

        “Sure.” Newt replied, though he knew an anxious wreck with ADHD and no work outlet didn’t need caffeine jitters too.

        Tendo turned on the automated coffee machine and leaned against the counter.

        “You feelin’ any better about it now?”

        “Kinda? I still can’t help but feel a little... I dunno. Like I did something wrong last night.”

        “I mean, dude, it’s not like you did anything that would be considered like...” he turned to Newt and raised an eyebrow.

        “No, _God_.” Newt balked.

        “Is admitting that you platonically care about someone who you’ve had such a long and meaningful relationship with really like... scandalous?”

        “Well to him--”

        “Don’t have him make you feel like you did something wrong because he said he _doesn’t hate you_ while groggy on medication.” Tendo paused. “Unless... You touched him in some non-consensual way...”

        “I didn’t touch him-- he touched me!”

        “Touched how?” He squinted.

        “Oh come on.”

        “I’m joking, but also, yes, I’m very curious.”

        “Now you’re really digging.”

        “Hey, full disclosure or I can’t help you figure this out.”

        “He just like. I like.” Newt shifted awkwardly and lowered his voice, “Laid on his chest and he pet my hair...”

        “Jeez Louise.” Tendo grinned. “You are cute as all _shit_.”

        “Stop.” Newt glowered.

        “I’m not patronizing you, It’s just, you and Hermann being sweet for once, that’s like... my buddy’s crush made a move.” Tendo said, holding out Newt’s coffee.

        “It’s not romantic and shit.” Newt corrected, snatching the drink. “And it’s not like it was really anything extraordinary, other than the fact that Hermann willingly touched someone.”

        “OK, OK, you’re right. And maybe it’s for the best, cause... if I ever heard like you guys kissed or something I would ascend.”

        “Tendo, _godddd_.” Newt flopped his head back like a teen being embarrassed by their parent. “Your matchmaker side-quests are getting out of hand.”

        “It’s boring as sin spending each day doing nothing but waiting for the world to end. Cut me some slack.”

        “By the way... that Shotaro kid came into the lab.” Newt gave Tendo a suspicious look over his coffee.

        “I did not send him.” Tendo said, eyes widening.

        “He said you told him to tell me who he is.”

        “I told him if he saw you to introduce himself.” Tendo pointed a finger. “Also, I didn’t really expect him to do it because he doesn’t say boo around here.”

        “I’m not looking for--”

        “I know!” Tendo interjected. “This was before our little chat and before I knew you and Hermann were gonna--” He whistled.

        “It’s not like that and it’s not gonna be like that.” Newt sighed. “You act like he’s not married---”

        “It’s 2024 brother.”

        “I don’t _want_ it to be like that.” Newt said firmly.

        “There, that’s better.”

        “I... I just... Last night was amazing and... I’m scared it was a one time thing.”

        “Listen, brother, I can’t make promises because Hermann-logic is fuckin’ flawed... But if I could bet money on this thing, I’d wager all my chips that you and he did not just have a-- ‘scuse my phrasing-- one night stand.”

        Newt took another swig of coffee. “Let’s talk about something else. I left the lab to... not think about him.”

        “Do you feel better now at least?”

        “Yeah. I... Whatever happens, I’ll get over it.” Newt sighed. “This shouldn’t have been about me anyway. I did this all for him.”

        “Well... If you want a lil pick-me-up...” Tendo wiggled his phone and smiled. “Al sent me pics of the kiddo’s Halloween costume.”

        Newt smiled. “Yeah, lemme see ‘em.”

        ---

        Newt entered the lab whistling to himself. Hermann turned his head giving him a look-over like an incredulous librarian, minus the shushing.

        “You going to dinner?” Newt asked casually.

        “Of course not.” Hermann replied.

        Newt put a paper cup one the desk beside his partner. Hermann’s eyes darted to and away from it like it was something unwelcome.

        “What’s this.” Hermann asked flatly.

        “A London Fog.”

        “A _who?_ ” he balked.

        “It’s like an earl grey latte or something.” Newt answered. “Tendo made it for you.”

        “He did? Oh. How nice.” Hermann replied almost sheepishly.

        “Anything interesting happen at work today?” Newt quipped.

        He gave a cheerless hum. “ _Finally_ entered my all notes into the new simulation...”

        “Hey, good job.” Newt said earnestly, smiling.

        Hermann blinked back. “A-Ah. Thank you...?” He seemed befuddled. “I mean it’s not even a fraction of what I get done on a--”

        “Small victories.” Newt said.

        Hermann looked almost relieved. “Absolutely,” he said softly.

        Newt ambled over to the couch and lounged across it, gaze slowly tracking paths of rust across the ceiling, finding the familiar shapes and patterns in them.

        The conversation with Tendo had brought his flighty head back down to earth. The hard shell Hermann built around himself wouldn’t be shed in a single heart-to-heart. But at least it’d cracked enough to let Newt know that not all of Hermann had been maimed by pain, neglect, and broken dreams. Someone was still alive in there. Someone soft, affectionate, who smiled and laughed as if they were filled with light. Maybe it was just a once-in-a-lifetime glimpse, like a shooting star, or a cryptid, but he prayed it wasn’t their last encounter.

        “I want to believe...” he said quietly to himself.

        He heard Hermann chuckle, and looked over surprised.

        “ _Ruhig_ , Mulder.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna get real personal for a sec (as if that's new, pfft); I was planning have this up earlier this month but someone very close to me got sick and then passed away the day I finished the chapter, so that kind of left me reeling. It was my grandma who was a huge influence on me, and if any of you saw my work in the Pacific Arcana tarot deck (I did the [Nine of Wands](http://tommytonebender.tumblr.com/post/129664532383/oh-wow-so-honored-to-be-part-of-this-amazing-deck) with Newt and Otachi) she's the reason I took that leap because she read tarot all her life and I wanted her to be able to see me do something with my art while she was still around. So thanks Pacific Rim, I guess, for inspiring me to put myself out there.
> 
> Uh, anyway, on a lighter note, I got a new fic series for another fandom starting this month, (still ace, still on brand, but I'm dipping my toe into ~romance~), but don't worry, with 65k already in the barrel, I can go back to focusing on the next LDYA update which should not take so long.
> 
> As always, comments mean the world to me, even though sometimes technical error makes me not see them. :/  
> Thanks again for all your support and putting up with these long gaps between updates. Hopefully some of you will join me in my next pet project. (I can juggle two kids, I swear)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, remember me?  
> Uhhhhh.... so I could give you a million reasons for why this is so late but I'll just sum it up with: 2017, amirite? lmao FORGIVE ME.

         “I’m kind of too excited to sleep.” Newt chuckled as they readied for bed that night.

         “Why’s that? Too much caffeine again? You know you shouldn’t--”

         “No, no--” Newt waved his hand rapidly. “Because of _tomorrow_.” Hermann’s eyes shifted around like he was mentally trying to pluck information out of the air. “My samples!” Newt beamed. “My itty bitty Kaiju pieces!”

         Hermann’s lip curled as he shot Newt a look like a moody teen. “Itty bitty?” He sneered. “Entrails almost as large as I am? Right. ‘Itty bitty’ as in I have to help you cart them in like I’m your--”

         “Dude, I’ve told you a million times I’ll get someone else to help. You don’t have to babysit me.”

         “It’s not-- I’m not.” Hermann tightened his jaw. “It is not _you_ I worry about, I just know the staff is right clumsy-- and if they break something? Well, that’s another who-knows-how-long you get to lounge around doing nothing while we’re at war.”

         “What, you think I enjoy my mind going crazy while I stare at the walls? I mean, I actually like my friggin’ job, dude, when I’m allowed to actually do it.” Newt took off his shirt quickly, tossing it aside and stretching. He looked back at Hermann who met his grin with crossed arms. “Getting ready for bed like this; I feel like a kid on Christmas.”

         Hermann hummed disapprovingly. “Well, I don’t. The bloody place is going to reek once again.”

         “What’s a migraine for the sake of the world, man?” Newt asked as he pulled on a fresh sleep shirt. Hermann wrinkled his nose like there was a phantom smell. “I’d offer you a mask but---”

         “Oh you know it does nothing, except make it harder to breathe at all.”

         “Fine, I’m just trying to find, like, a solution for a shit situation,” Newt said, scratching the back of his head vigorously.

         Sometimes Newt couldn’t help but feel like Hermann was taking out his budgetary frustrations on him. It wasn’t Newt’s fault that the PPDC crammed two very separate specialists in a morgue because they were both K-Science. OK, sure, he didn’t really do any favors leaving entrails and semi-toxic gunk around the lab... but if he had the place to himself, it wouldn’t even _be_ a problem. This train of thought made the frustration in his chest start to boil-- until his gaze fell upon his lab partner.

         Hermann seemed moody and pensive, like a dog who had gotten into trouble and was waiting for someone to find out.

         “It’s OK,” Newt said impulsively. Frankly, he wasn’t sure _what_ was ‘OK’, but he hoped the random sentiment would dispel whatever anxiety currently hovered around his lab partner. Hermann was being ordinarily snippy and combative, which Newt had grown used to, but something else laid underneath. Maybe another present would help? “Well, since it’s early Christmas for me...” he said, rummaging through his bag.

         “Oh Newton, what now?” Hermann groaned.

         “Yeah, that’s the way to react to gifts, Hermann, very good. They raised you well,” Newt said while rolling his eyes.

         He handed Hermann the final bag, crumpled from laying in wait in his tote. Hermann accepted it with the same gusto of someone being given roadkill. Naturally, anxiety began brewing up inside Newt’s stomach as Hermann’s face shifted to perplexment and then almost repulsion.

          _Context, you idiot, you can’t just gift your lab partner massage oils._

         “OK, let me explain why--” Newt started.

         “H-How many more things did you buy?” Hermann asked.

         “This is the last of it.”

         “That’s it, Newton, no more,” Hermann said firmly.

         Newt nearly jumped. “A-Alright.”

         Hermann sighed and collapsed back on the bed. Newt stared down at his boots, wondering if he had made some mistake. If the gesture had been wholly inappropriate and his mental quirks had prevented him from realizing. His go-to response to committing social faux pas was to get belligerent to hide his embarrassment, but… this time he just felt too small.

         “I’ll save it for a rainy day, I think,” Hermann murmured to himself. There was a profound silence as Newt's head buzzed and he inadvertently began retreating into himself. Hermann propped himself up on his elbows and noticed Newt’s crestfallen demeanor. “I’m sorry I snapped at you again. It’s just... you must understand, I’m not used to getting gifts of _any_ nature. Especially so out of the blue. I got... ah-- _get_ highly uncomfortable.”

         “It wasn’t _that_ out of the blue. I was out, and neither of us have been able to treat ourselves to anything in awhile.”

         “Still, I suppose it’s just... the logical implications... of the items themselves.”

         “Implications?” Newt repeated, slightly defensive. “You’ve been in a lot of pain so I just wanted to find a way to help. You’ve been having a shit-time and I just...”

         “You’re right. I-I’m sorry.” Hermann’s head bowed. “Everything’s got me so on edge, I’m over analyzing everything.”

         “S’okay,” Newt muttered, eyes still downcast.

         “It... _is_ awfully kind of you to go out of your way like that. To... to think of me when you really didn’t need to.”

         “S’nothin’,” Newt replied in the same tone, but he had straightened up.

         “I used to use herbal what-have-yous like this when I was younger,” he said, shifting through the bag again. “Before I knew how much of the science behind it was rubbish--”

         “It’s not rubbish,” Newt retorted. “Not any more than these pills we take. They could just be placebos, and still... even if you don’t think they have medical prowess, just take a little time for yourself.”

         Hermann sat up and studied him. “When, oh when would I have the time?” he asked and then gave a small smile. “None of this is supposed to be about me, I have a job to do. It’d be uncouth to take time off for such things.”

         “Just practice a little self-care,” Newt said, parroting things his therapists over the years had said.

         Hermann laughed. Newt frowned at him but knew exactly what he meant; they were workaholics and the only thing that made them feel good was fully immersing themselves in the lab. The fact that they were both married to this mindset was one of the few threads of common ground they held tightly after their initial friendship violently imploded.

         “We’re both fucked up in our own ways,” Newt said. Hermann raised an eyebrow. “And giving zero shits about our health is probably the only reason we’ve lasted here so long. But we also can’t... collapse, cause there’s no one to replace us.”

         “You... You want to know what’s on my mind?” Hermann offered. Newt tilted his head slightly. “I’m so very tired of fussing with medicinal doses. All day I’ve been... debating whether to ease off or even take more. Does the sleep it grants me outweigh the nasty side effects?”

         Newt nodded.

         “What do you suggest?” Hermann asked.

         “Why would you ask me? I’m no expert on pain meds.”

         “Well, that’s what one does when they’re at a loss.”

         Newt swayed a little, “Well... If I was in pain I think being a little sweaty and loopy would be a welcome break from agony. Besides, you gotta sleep, man.”

         Hermann pursed his lips. “Last night was the best sleep I’ve had in awhile...”

         “Go for it, dude. I promise, like... no Twenty Questions or anything if you feel so weird about being on heavy meds.”

         “Newt, I...” he started before taking a breath as if he was swallowing the words. He looked down at his feet quickly and then back at Newt. “Pay it no mind, I... trust you.”

         Something tugged in Newt’s chest. It was only the second time Hermann had said it, and it still affected him more than expected.

         “Will you do me one favor first?” Hermann asked.

         “Anything, man.”

         “Take a goddamned shower,” he said, before letting out the faintest hint of a sneer at Newt’s embarrassment.

         ----

         “Newt? I'm sorry to wake you...”

         Newt blinked himself away from a dream where his estranged mother was reaming him about ‘poisoning’ himself with medication. Hermann’s voice was a welcome one.

         “It’s OK, what is it hun-” He caught himself. “Mmn- Herm.”

         “I'm absolutely drenched.”

         “What?” Newt sat up.

         “Clammy, sweaty...” Hermann’s voice replied from the darkness.

         “Oh, you want a towel?”

         “Yes,” he said in a meek voice.

         Newt stumbled out of bed and slinked thru the dark room, nearly tripping over the clothes he left in the middle of the floor. He reached the bathroom and switched on the light, grabbing one of the soft towels that Hermann must have bought himself.

         He turned back around. Hermann had his head in his hands and looked small.

         “You OK?” Newt asked returning to the bed. He sat down on the edge, facing Hermann.

         “I'm sorry, this is disgusting--”

         “No, it's not, dude, this happens to me all the time. Are you too hot--”

         “No, I'm _cold_ ,” Hermann said, voice cracking.

         “Hey man, it's OK, you're OK.”

         “I feel awful you have to put up--”

         “Dude, Hermann, this is literally why I'm here.”

         Hermann looked up at him, dejected. A bead of sweat slid down his temple. Newt dabbed at it comfortingly.

         “My shirt is sticking...” Hermann mumbled. He then slowly undid the buttons and pulled it off. His face contorted in disgust and he threw the garment unceremoniously on the floor-- in a way Newt would’ve more expected of himself than of his esteemed colleague-- before holding out his hand for the towel. Newt obliged and Hermann ruffled it thru his hair, then slowly blotted at his body. His face stayed twisted and taut. Newt put his hand on Hermann's knee reassuringly.

         The towel now draped around Hermann's neck. He stared off into the dark corner, visibly upset. Both his eyes and skin were glossy, glistening in the light from the bathroom. He didn't seem to care his body was on display; his mind was preoccupied. Something about Hermann’s demeanor was absolutely heartbreaking to Newt, and he needed to fix it somehow.

         Thus he made a calculated risk. After taking a deep breath, he moved his other hand onto Hermann's shoulder. It was sticky but Newt didn't recoil, knowing the reflex would upset Hermann further. When this did not cause any reaction whatsoever, he rubbed Hermann’s shoulder and back. Hermann's eyes became heavy and he made a content noise.

         “You're warm. Feels nice.”

         Newt moved his hand upward, to Hermann's neck and eventually to the back of his head, cautiously scratching his undercut. Hermann leaned into Newt's touch and moaned slightly. The new receptiveness to his touch gave Newt a rush. Hermann was open and vulnerable and not pulling away. It felt intimate in a way Newt had never experienced.

         “You're sweet,” Hermann mumbled candidly.

         Newt felt the color rush to his cheeks.

         “I'm just helping a friend,” he replied earnestly.

         “Mmn. I feel lucky then.”

         Hermann was landing direct hits on Newt's heart.

         “Well... it's 4 am,” Newt changed the subject, looking at the digital clock.

         “Is that all?” Hermann asked.

         “Yeah.”

         “I'll very much need to bathe now, hmm?” Hermann said, wiping sweat from his neck.

         “I'll help you if you need it,” Newt offered, knowing it’d be rejected. Hermann hummed thoughtfully as though he were considering it. “Do you want another shirt?”

         “No, I don’t want sleeves.”

         “You... wanna borrow one of my tees?”

         Hermann gazed at him like he’d said something genius. “Oh. _Ohh._ If you don’t mind.”

         Newt nodded and dove into his bag. Hermann was much thinner than him, but his torso was longer than Newt’s. He hoped the biggest band shirt he had would suffice. It was soft too.

         “Arcade Fire,” Hermann said lazily as Newt handed it to him. “ _Hipster_.”

         “Hey, I’ll take it back if you’re gonna be so picky.”

         Hermann laughed softly. Newt helped him pull the shirt on; it was a tad more difficult than the button ups, and made more arduous by the fact that Hermann was still a bit sweaty and his movement sluggish.

         “I’m glad you’re here, otherwise I’d be dreadfully lonely.” Hermann sighed. “Vanessa is so busy these days she doesn’t even text good night.”

         “Have you told Vanessa yet?” Newt asked, the thought striking his mind again.

         “What?”

         “About you almost falling?”

         “Oh no, no...”

         “Dude why?”

         “I told you, I don't want to worry her. Not when we're so far away.”

         “You _should_...” Newt said, “I mean if I was your-- I mean... I think any spouse would want to know...”

         “I will if it gets any worse. I don't need to tell her every time I accidently trip over something either. Trust me, Newton, when you are married to a disabled man you figure it’s more remarkable when he has a good day.”

         “Sometimes… sometimes I...” Newt started, but trailed off.

         “Hmm?” Hermann asked, rubbing his eyes.

         “Sometimes I think _you think_ you’re more of a burden than you are.” Newt nervously twisted at the bedsheets. “There’s a lot about you to find infuriating, but your disability isn’t part of it.”

         Hermann stared down at his lap and said nothing. Newt’s body tensed up as anxiety filled him. Maybe he’d said the wrong thing, _like always_.

         “I’m sorry about earlier,” Hermann whispered. “I was being an arse.”

          _Which time?_ Newt wanted to ask, but decided against it. The apology was welcome enough.

         “It’s OK--”

         “No, no it isn’t.” Hermann lethargically waved a hand. “You’re very dear to me. I’m glad you’re here. My dear friend. My Newton.”

         Newt felt himself blush again. “We’ll see how you feel about that when you’re not hopped up on meds.”

         “Newton.” Hermann exhaled with frustration.

         “C’mon, you should lay back down, get some sleep.”

         “I don't have many friends,” Hermann said quietly.

         “What are you talking about? People like you.”

         “No, they like me, but they aren't my friends.”

         “... Lay down dude, I’ll help you.”

         “Fine,” Hermann breathed, as Newt lowered him.

         He pulled the covers over Hermann and laid down gently beside him.

         “Vanessa's very close with her best friend,” Herman continued. “Perhaps women are more predisposed to this sort of behavior with one another.”

         “Maybe,” Newt said, giving him a small smile.

         Hermann did not wriggle up near the wall, instead he laid close to Newt, as if he needed to feel him there in the dark. Something reassuring him that he too had a friend and he was not alone.

         ---

         The phone buzzed like a jackhammer against the side table, startling Newt awake. Hermann awoke too and gasped out: “Kaiju.”

         Newt fumbled for the phone and answered, a panic beating in his chest.

         “Hello?”

         “Hello, Dr. Geiszler? This is Kazuma.”

         “Ka... zuma...” Newt repeated, racking his still sleepy brain.

         “Uh... Sh-Shotar--”

         “Shotaro!” Newt cut him off, “Yeah, from yesterday-- hey man, is something wrong?”

         Hermann looked at Newt expectantly, though his eyes were squinting with exhaustion.

         “Nothing’s wrong, you just weren’t in your lab. You’re needed up on the deck to oversee--”

         “Kaiju!” Newt cried, remembering all the excitement in him from the night before.

         Hermann sat up in terror.

         “No, no!” Newt assured him, “Kaiju parts, not live ones.”

         Hermann clutched his chest. “ _Du hast mir eine Heidenangst eingejagt!_ ” He panted, before easing back down.

         “Sorry, Herms---” Newt froze realizing he was still on the phone.

         “Oh,” Shotaro said, “Is Dr. Gottlieb there with you?”

         Newt’s mouth went dry. “Y-Yeah--”

         “Why are you two not in the lab?”

         “We’re having morning coffee,” Newt lied.

         “Oh I see. I’m sorry to interrupt then.”

         “No it’s cool-- I’ll be there in 10.” Newt hung up and sighed. He turned to Hermann who was eyeing him again. “You gonna be alright?” he asked, getting up out of bed.

         “Yeah... I might sleep in, honestly,” Hermann said, “To make up for that clammy spell.”

         “OK, man. If you need anything--”

         “I’ll text you,” Hermann mumbled, shifting over into the middle of the bed.

         ---

         Newt watched with breathless anticipation as the crane lowered more and more crates to the deck. Often he’d run around, micromanaging the situation, hissing under his breath as the crew dropped the specimens with a little too much force. This morning the excitement was only enough to keep him awake --

         “This is so fascinating,” Shotaro said as another crew member dismantled a wooden box, revealing a small tank. “I’ve never actually seen any in person.”

         -- and he also didn’t want to look like a raving loon in front of the new guy, who was following him like they were magnetized.

         “Right?” Newt replied with a long yawn that almost took the wind out of him. “God, I could use a coffee,” he laughed.

         “But... Doctor, did you not just come from coffee?”

         “What?” Newt furrowed his brow, but then realized the lie he’d given before. “Oh. Well, y’know, working K-Science hours, I need more than one to operate, y’know.”

         “Oh! Wow.” Shotaro chuckled, “One is almost too much for me, I can’t imagine. That’s cool.”

         “Yeah, chemical dependencies are super cool,” Newt joked. Shotaro laughed louder.

         “Maybe we can get coffee some time?” Shotaro asked. Newt raised a brow. “I like to try new things.”

         “Maybe in the _breakroom_ ,” Newt quipped. “I’m like, super busy. People ask me to go out and I have to decline every time. It sucks.”

         “People ask you out a lot?” Shotaro queried, his voice a little more unsure.

         “I mean, ‘out’ as in going out with friends,” Newt clarified. “No one asks me _out_ , are you kidding?” He laughed.

         Shotaro titled his head. “Why?”

         “‘Cause I’m me,” Newt said casually. Usually he cared deeply about feeling unwanted, his perpetual singledom aggravating his self-esteem issues, but today he remained unfazed. His hand moved to his jacket pocket, feeling the outline of the phone.

         “I don’t think it’s bad to be you. You’re… cool.”

         “Well I guess Hong Kong needs to employ more people like you who ‘get it’--- _Hey!_ ” He shouted at a crew member. “Easy, dude -- _toxic chemicals_ \-- like it says on the side? ‘Caution’ and all that? Or you’re gonna have a bad fuckin’ time? Yeah that’s what I thought!” He turned back to Shotaro. “Sorry, what was I saying?”

         “Oh-- um, nothing…” His face seemed pinker. “So… you worked at Tokyo, right?” Shotaro asked.

         “Yeah.”

         “Did you like it?”

         “Hell yeah, living in Japan was like my childhood dream come true.”

         “Really?” Shotaro smiled. “Would you ever go back?”

         “If the world doesn’t end, sure,” Newt replied.

         “I worked at the Tokyo Shatterdome for a week, and then transferred here when it shut down.”

         “Yeah, shit, that _suuucks_ ,” Newt lamented. “So what do you do? I mean, being out here you’re probably not part of LOCCENT.”

         “I’m more of a... what do you guys call it? A runner? I just do the things that no one else is really assigned to do after budget cuts. I wear a lot of ‘hats’?” he said, looking at Newt to confirm that was a saying. Newt nodded. “Yeah. It keeps me from getting bored, though.”

         “That’s a sweet deal, I guess. You get paid well?”

         “No.” He smiled and shook his head. “I’m just trying to help any way I can. My relatives were killed in the last Japan attack.”

         Despite this horrific explanation, Shotaro continued grinning as if he’d said something quaint.

         “Oh. I’m sorry, dude.”

         “Everyone’s lost someone.” He shrugged, but continued gazing at Newt with a smile as if he was transfixed.

         If Newt was reading this right... _aw hell_. Tendo didn’t tell him Shotaro already _liked him_.

         Newt sighed. “Yeah, guess you’re right.”

         If this super cute guy had a crush on him, it was weirdly flattering... but _damn,_ Newt just didn’t have the time for this. Hopefully this was just some newbie charmed by being in the presence of greatness. Newt could stand to have a fan in his corner.

         “May I help you take it back to the lab?” Shotaro asked.

         “Sure, knock yourself out, kid,” Newt said, hoping to distance himself a little if he was reading the signals right.

         Shotaro seemed undeterred. “I’m stronger than I look,” he said proudly. “You’ll see.”

         ---

         Shotaro might’ve been a bit of a flirt, but at least he wasn’t lying when he said that he could be helpful. Bringing the tanks back took less time and effort thanks to him, even if Newt’s own effort to play it casual and a little bit distant were lost to the wind.

         “That’s amazing, Doctor,” Shotaro chirped enthusiastically, watching over as Newt spread out the first of the Kaiju samples on his autopsy table.

         “Isn’t it? It’s super rare to actually get them so fresh-- that one’s almost still breathing,” he chuckled. He swore he’d heard Hermann groan.

         “Have you ever seen a live one? Up close?” Shotaro asked, leaning in a little from the stool he was perched on.

         “Actually, no, but I’d-- like, I would _really_ like to. See, there’s only so much you can tell from all that shaky-cam video, and, like, on top of that, there _is_ this sort of awe and wonder-- like I’m a kid again-- at the thought of…”  

         Newt could feel Hermann’s disapproval all the way from his side of the lab, even with his back turned, as he rambled on about his love for Kaiju to an actually patient and intently listening Shotaro.

         “Doctor Geiszler,” Hermann hissed after a few more moments of shop-talk, “may I remind you that we have very strict regulations concerning the type of personnel allowed near your Kaiju samples?”

         “Aw c’mon, fun police.” Newt scowled.

         “Oh, yes-- No, I’m sorry,” Shotaro nodded, getting to his feet. “I’ll let you work, then, see where they might need me now.”

         “Alright man, well, it was good talking to another human being for once,” Newt said, “I’d, uh, shake your hand but uh--” He looked down at his glistening gloves.

         “No, it’s fine--” Shotaro said, backing away, “You, uh-- I might stop by another time? For that coffee?”

         “Sure, I’ll catch you later,” Newt said with half a smile, knowing for sure Hermann was shaking his head derisively without even needing to look. “ _What?”_ he asked once his guest had left the lab.

         “Nothing,” Hermann said in a pointed tone. “What if you spilled some Kaiju blue on that poor gentleman? I’m sure he doesn’t get paid enough to deal with such things. Your lack of consideration for health and safety…”

         Newt shook his head and decided to ignore Hermann’s lecture, putting all his focus back onto his sample.  

         If Newt didn’t know better he’d almost think Hermann was jealous. The thought nearly made him snicker, but he held it back-- well aware that the man currently scolding him would take it as a further act of insolence.

         The first organ was filleted for chemical testing and examined with ease, so much that Newt felt bizarrely on autopilot. His body had that strange blurry feeling like he was outside of it. Maybe it was lack of sleep, or maybe he wasn’t administering his meds on time. He put another small specimen on the slab for closer examination.

         The peculiar sensation intensified.

         “Woahhh...” Newt peered at the bit of tissue.

         “Hmm?” Hermann looked up with a bit of interest.

         “Nothing, I just got like serious déjà vu right now. Like I had just cut into this chunk of meat before,” Newt said, realizing how odd he must sound.

         “Yes well, I’m sure all chunks of meat have their similarities,” Hermann said flatly. “They all smell terrible, at least.”

         “Like, what the hell is with today-- have I examined this guy before?” Newt asked, pouring over the files that came with the delivery. “No...? Huh.”

         “Newton,” Hermann sighed.

         “Herms, this is so weird,” Newt continued, prodding at the viscera. “I swear I--”

         “Yes, I heard you the first time,” Hermann grumbled. “Are you honestly going to keep blathering on all day or can I get a moment to focus?”

         “Jeez, dude, relax,” Newt sighed before burying himself back in his work. Getting Hermann interested in any of his work was a losing battle.

         ---

         Despite the unexpected -- yet fascinating -- similarities he found between several of his samples, fatigue started to creep back up on him after a few hours of hyperfocus. He stripped himself of his protective gear and sat down with a late breakfast, which gave him a vantage point on his lab partner's growing frustration. Hermann was a symphony of irate noises and hissed German curses which slowly, but surely, crescendoed into a cacophony of stress.

         “It’s not working! I can’t bloody figure out what I’ve done wrong,” Hermann exclaimed, pushing himself back from his desk in the office chair.

         "Uh, Earth to Hermann," Newt quipped with a mouthful of food, "In case you've forgotten, all science shit is trial and error. It's like... 90% failure."

         “I know you're content with playing around with your Kaiju entrails, but I have real work to do!" Hermann chided, aggressively turning in his chair to face Newt.

         “Excuuuuse me? I'm figuring out how to kill these giant sons of bitches before they kill all of us.”

         “Ah yes, the other week you told the Kaidonovskys to, and I quote: 'punch it 'til it dies'. Six doctorates weren’t required for that conclusion. Sounds like the battle strategy of a sugar-addled eight year old playing a video game-- though sometimes I wonder if that’s all you are."

         “OK, well then, _tellllll me_ how staring at the same stupid hologram for the past two months is somehow more important than me finding out how to slay a real life dragon.”

         "This 'stupid hologram' is the most accurate 3D model of the breach to date and you know that," he snapped. "You just have to stab meat with a fork after all is said and done--"

         "Wowwwww," Newt laughed, feeling rage starting to bubble up.

         "But I?" Hermann threw his glasses off his face in a rage, "Ohhh, I have to predict when and where and how these monstrosities you fawn over will attack before the fact--"

         "Oh screw you, I don't ‘fawn’--"

         "-- and the consequences of any and all of my personal errors result in loss of human life on a massive scale,” Hermann shouted.

         Newt had been readying a retort, but was so taken aback by this new disclosure that the words caught in his throat and instead emerged as a confused whimper.

         “Once upon a time,” Hermann continued, “I had an entire team working under me, and now I'm flying completely solo, praying to God that I haven't miscalculated and allowed one to sneak up on us.” Hermann grabbed his cane and started to approach Newton. The closer he got the glossier his eyes seemed. “So ‘ _excuuuuse me’_ doctor, but don't you even dare question the validity of my stress levels.” His voice wavered slightly. “You cannot even begin to comprehend the p-pressure that I carry solely on my shoulders."

         Newt stared back at him, mouth slightly agape.

         “Well, Newton?” Hermann taunted, ready to fight, “Are you just going to stand there stupidly--”

         "Are... are you OK?" Newt asked quietly.

         It obviously wasn’t the reaction Hermann had expected. He was waiting for Newt to shriek something in defense but instead the biologist was visibly shocked. And not his typical ‘what-did-you just-say-to-me?’ shock, but a sincerely worried kind. They each always entered verbal sparring matches to get his lab partner to see things his way, but Newt could tell that, to Hermann, actually winning was... kind of scary.

         “Shit... H-hey...” Newt was dumbfounded by Hermann’s sudden outburst of honesty, trying to find words.

         Hermann suddenly seemed awkward, as if exposed and wanting to change the subject.

         “Look, Newton...”

         “Dude I didn’t know it was weighing on you like that...” Newt wanted to give Hermann a hug or some sort of reassuring touch but wasn’t sure if he should. “Holy shit, Herm, do you really blame yourself for casualties? I mean...”

         “I... I’m not cut out for this,” Hermann thought out loud.

         “Hey--”

         “It wasn’t supposed to be this way...” He was staring at the floor now, breath catching in his chest.

         “Herm--”

         “I wasn’t supposed to do this alone,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

         “What about _me_?” Newt snarled.

         “What?” Hermann looked up.

         “You’re not alone, you idiot. I’m on this sinking ship too. I lost my team too. No, wait-- shit...” Newt grimaced, “That’s not what I mean. I suck at words, _urghh._ What I’m trying to say is we’re in this together, OK? We may not have our own teams anymore now that we’re the lone survivors of K-Science. But let’s not forget, dude, _we’re_ a team. Like... does that make sense?”

         Hermann stared back with a furrowed brow, like he was translating it in his brain, and then nodded slowly.

         “Hey man…” Newt continued. “I wasn’t trying to say you didn’t have a reason to be stressed.”

         His lab partner gave a sharp exhale, and then slowly ambled back to his computer chair as if the outburst took everything out of him. Newt watched, waiting for some sort of continuation of the conversation -- or even acknowledgement of it. Instead Hermann resumed plodding at the keys.

         “Take a break, man,” Newt said softly.

         “You know I cannot do that.”

         “You can,” Newt assured. “I know when you get frustrated you make mistakes--” (Hermann scoffed at that.) “-- so it’ll be better to just clear your head for a sec.”

         “There’s already been a Kaiju attack this month that... _destroyed_ a Jaeger.” Hermann swallowed. “And I know there has to be another before the month is through. Anchorage, Lima, Tokyo-- they’ve all closed since then. That’s three less Shatterdomes to launch from and one less Jaeger and...”

         Newt put down his food. “Alright, dude, we’re taking a break,” he said, approaching his lab partner.

         “What?” Hermann balked.

         “C’mon.” Newt sighed, grabbing the rolling chair and pushing Hermann in it towards the couch.

         “Newton-- _No_ ,” Hermann said between his teeth, trying to stop the chair with his legs.

         “Yeah buddy, I’m gonna insist,” Newt replied causally.

         “Newton, you are not my nurse--”

         “I’m your friend,” Newt finished, “Which is why I’m doing this.”

         Hermann leaned back defeated and eyed the couch. “... Only for a moment then.”

         Newt tried his best to make Hermann comfortable, offering him a book, more pillows, some snacks-- all of which were rejected.

         “Well _I’m_ heating up water, so you can take it or leave it,” Newt said.

         Hermann was quiet for a moment but then, as expected, sheepishly asked for a cup too.

         After making sure all was well with his overly stressed companion, Newt returned back to work. Back to the bizarre specimen that was making his head feel all funny. Maybe the fumes were starting to get to him too. He pulled his mask tighter. He glanced over at Hermann who appeared to be typing purposefully on his phone.

         He tried to focus on his work, the work that he had been so antsy to get back to. Not just because the clock was always ticking, but because it was his passion, his dream. _Xenobiology_ , something back in his school days was an impossible thing from movies and comic books, and hell, even the X-Files didn’t consider it a career.

         This big gelatinous hunk of flesh, akin to whale blubber soaked in Kool-Aid, stared him back in the face, pleading to be examined but also taunting him in a way. Every specimen had its similarities and differences; they needed to have the characteristics of a silicone-based being, with physiology capable of moving and sustaining such mass, but they were all different shapes and sizes with unique chemical compounds allowing them to have such a diverse set of skills. So why, for the first time, did he feel like he _knew_ this slab of viscera almost intimately?

         Newt exhaled through his teeth. He was prone to bizarre brain problems. This had to just be another one. He would go through the motions, do what he was supposed to do. Extract, dissect, scan, make sure every detail was documented. Maybe things would make more sense on paper. Science... it was the only thing Newt could count on. It had all the answers and he spoke its language.

         ---

         The scalpel slipped from his fingers onto the floor. He took that as a sign. He followed containment procedure, sterilized everything, then tore off all his protective gear as if it was strangling him.

         “Done already?” Hermann asked.

         “I’m fuckin’ tired, man,” Newt said, rifling through the mini-fridge for some more caffeine. “My brains all fuzzy and weird and _blegh_.”

         “You’re on your meds, right?”

         “What-- yeah,” Newt said defensively, though admittedly he hadn’t been too rigorous with them the past few days.

         “You are?” Hermann asked skeptically.

         “Yeah, of course,” Newt replied, grabbing a soda and stealthily popping his second dose of ADHD medication. Newt turned back to his coworker, who was staring at his phone again. Hermann let out a small sigh. “Look at you. Lazy millennial on your smartphone.”

         “ _Ha,”_ Hermann replied flatly. His thumb ran across the screen, flipping thru something. He stared at the phone intently, but then turned it off and tossed it aside with finality.

         “What’s up, dude?”

         “Phone anxiety.”

         “ _What?_ ”

         “You wouldn’t understand,” Hermann grumbled.

         “ _I_ wouldn’t understand anxiety?” Newt balked, leaning forward. “My number one personality trait? Jesus Christ, Hermann, c’mon.”

         Hermann exhaled through his teeth as if trapped in a corner.

         “I tried pinging Vanessa but I just don’t have the heart to make her worry.” Hermann looked up at Newt, “She just sent me a photo and she looks so happy and I… I don't want to puncture this wonderful bubble she's living in.”

         “Dude, do it anyway. She’s probably worrying about you after all the shit that’s gone down this month. Like, she’s not dumb, and you can’t avoid the news.”

         “Oh, what do I even say? ‘Yes, I know the world is ending because your father-in-law helped convince the world that walls are more important than Shatterdomes---?” His voice gradually raised as he sped up, nearly manic. “By the way, your husband is an absolute mess and even if we all survive this apocalypse his body is still going to get worse’?”

         “Hermann.” Newt’s shoulder slumped, “I know this sucks, but... you’re starting to sound like _me_ ,” he chuckled half-heartedly.

         “Yes well... one of the perils of being in your proximity,” Hermann muttered. “I'll… tell her if she asks… but only then. She's working so hard to have a cushion for us to live on, now that Lars has cut me off and the PPDC stopped being living wage. I need to keep a strong face for her sake, Newton, do you understand?”

         “I mean… I guess. Communication is important though right?”

         “Yes but there are exceptions… carrying the emotional weight so your spouse doesn't have a stressful pregnancy is one of them.”

         “Ah, I see. And then by proxy you take the double dose of stress out on me,” he said before taking a drink.

         Hermann looked up and stared at Newt for a few moments, before pointing. “Exactly.”

         Newt almost snorted soda out his nose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna stop making promises about when I'll update because that BACKFIRED. Lots of rewrites and writers blocks and I had to step away from stress... all while dealing with 2017 as a whole.
> 
> ANYWAY thanks for supporting me, thanks to all the new readers I've gotten and probably wondered if this fic was dead. I will never abandon this, don't worry. It's just sometimes hard to write lol and again I apologize.
> 
> Thanks to [seaweedredandbrown](http://archiveofourown.org/users/seaweedredandbrown/pseuds/seaweedredandbrown) and [Coldharbour](http://archiveofourown.org/users/coldharbour) for beta-reading and talking me through my STRESS.
> 
> Plugging [my main blog](http://television-for-dinner.tumblr.com) and [my art/fanworks blog](http://tommytonebender.tumblr.com) here, if you haven't checked out my sidebars wink nudge.


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